


A Side of Sundays (Intermission Fic #1)

by Sonny



Series: The RIO Chronicles [2]
Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Angst, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post Season 5, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-07-10
Updated: 2007-07-10
Packaged: 2017-10-13 17:48:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 51,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/140019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sonny/pseuds/Sonny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the aftermath of Brian's recovery, Michael reflects on memories of the last few moments with Brian, pondering a future with or without Brian in it...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

  
_From_   
_  
**"DON'T LIKE HOLDING ON..."**   
_   
_-_

 _"But we'd agree to what? Every other day? Every two or three days? Only Tuesdays and Thursdays... with_ _ **a side of Sundays**_ _? How do we do that... and not monopolize time from everything else in our lives?..."_ ( **dialogue from Brian** )

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
 _ **A week ago... a quiet early morning in The Loft...**_

  
Michael turned to rest on his left side. He expected the warm body next to him to roll over, as well, but face the other direction. It was the usual M.O. of Ben, lately. Michael to bed first, then Ben slipped in. They would switch opposite sides when the other would turn over, never facing each other. Mostly they slept back to back, not touching at all.

Except he wasn't in bed with Ben... in fact, this wasn't even his bed. He lay there, head almost off the bottom hem of the pillow, face pushed into the mattress. He drew up his hand to tuck under his cheek, fingertips ready to claw at the bed. He touched flesh... warm flesh and moving. As he situated his hand down the bare forearm, below his temple, he met fingers curled, clasping for his.

The heated body, connected to the arm, rolled, aligning his front to Michael's back. The body's empty right hand flew out to grasp, sculpting Michael's jutting hip, caressing around his waist and down his upper left thigh to remain secure. There was a deep, guttural sigh blown into Michael's ear, which made him close his eyes and swallow.

For a second, Michael felt the initial shock of wondering where he was and who the hell was with him, but once he began to feel the familiar face burying itself in his hair, he knew everything. Lips ventured down to nuzzle Michael's nape and across his shoulder blades, so slight the touch that he could sense eyelashes tickling. Never failed to make his belly tighten as he felt the perfect "fit" of his bed companion, then everything fell into its rightful place. He smiled accordingly as he adjusted to kiss and nudge the arm nearby, watching it curl about him, bringing them as close as this proximity would allow.

"How long have you been up?" Michael spoke with a crackle to his voice, then cleared his throat.

"Not very." Brian used his face to rub over the expanse of Michael's back, paying close attention to the curved, defined spine. He ended at the top of the chord, suckling at the shaved dark hairline. He rested his cheek on what room was left of his own biceps.

Brian scooted Michael closer still, while Michael chuckled lightly. "Doing what?" Michael stretched within the confines of Brian's arms, raising his own only halfway. He was almost turned on his back, but on Brian's chest. He reached backward to caress Brian's face, catching his jaw and chin. He sent a second kiss to the underside of Brian's jaw, feeling the scratch of stubble on his lips. He licked them from the tingle.

"Watching you sleep." Brian already moved to Michael's right shoulder blade, biting down with his front teeth, then tenderly smooching the naked flesh, making sloppy kissing noises.

"How very exciting for you." Michael yawned while he said the words, which made them sound more heartfelt.

"I like waking up before you." Brian rested his cheek on the shoulder joint, his right hand moving upward to soothe over Michael's stomach. "Always have..."

"Mmm..." Michael moaned out on a thought of replying with the usual _"... always will..."_ , but chose not to, letting the comment die. "You woke up before me because you'd usually pass out on my bed. All that alcohol gave you the bladder of a two-year-old."

Brian chuckled from deep within his belly, tucking his right leg between Michael's thighs. His lips trailed along the shoulder bone to the slope of Michael's neck. "... to match your two-year-old's stomach..." Five fingers spanned over Michael's flat belly, caressing the flexing muscles.

"Hmm... odd, never thought of it that way." Michael turned a little into Brian's body, glancing over his shoulder. "You think of these things often?"

Brian wrapped both arms, tight, about Michael's thin form. "I do... whenever I obsess about you."

Michael choked on a swallow. "You obsess about me?" He used his right hand to gesture to himself, pressing down on his upper chest.

Brian paused, realizing what he was admitting to, but quickly stepping up to replace the sentiment. "No... not all the time..." He cleared his clogged throat. "... but more like a 'phase' thing."

Michael held back his snickering. "That... sounds encouraging." He knew Brian had let some secret out he never wanted him to know. Why now?... was also the mystery.

Brian's face grew warmer, tucking into Michael's back. Was Brian growing shy and embarrassed?

Brian sighed, blinking slowly. He had to clear up the mess that would soon turn into confusion. "No... not like a 'phase'-phase, like it goes away and never comes back." He rolled onto his back, dragging Michael with him, in an awkward position, half on top of his left side. He curled his left arm about Michael's upper torso, both of his hands gripping Michael's right biceps. He turned his face to Michael's hair, pressing his mouth firmly on the raven locks. "It's like when something monumental happens on this one date... you let it go, but that day haunts you, makes you anticipate its arrival."

Michael nodded his head, bringing up one hand to place over both of Brian's. "Like the day Vic passed." He played with Brian's fingers, pulling them backward, then letting them go to slap bare skin. "I'll remember it forever, but there's times I'll forget... the day will have passed and I feel guilty. Or... weeks before... I'm edgy and emotionally wrought for no reason. I guess it's the pesky way your subconscious makes you recall the sadness, since it was tragic at the initial time."

"Right concept, wrong feeling. I don't think of you..." Brian nuzzled Michael's hairline on the side of his neck with his nose tip, passing by the ear lobe. "... and feel sad..."

"Good to hear."

Brian pulled away, a little, allowing Michael to roll onto his own back. Michael's head still rested on Brian's biceps. "To tell you the truth, I never know what to feel." He faced the ceiling, never looking away. "All I know is..." He tightened Michael to his side. "... I'm always glad to see you."

Michael could see out of his peripheral vision, but chose to look at the same spot Brian was. The shadows were pretty on the ceiling, making interesting pictures. "Even when we fight." As Brian pulled him near, he curled his left fist between their bodies so he could grip Brian's rib cage, spanning open his four fingers, thumb at the back.

"Yeah..." Brian scratched at his stubble. "... especially when we argue." He flipped over his head to catch Michael's eyes in the darkness. "I seem to crave you more." His voice got softer, more gentle, like a whisper on a breeze.

Michael nodded, never removing his eyes from above him. "I don't like it. The fighting." He could mean him and Ben, but he meant it more for him and Brian. Never felt right to be angry with Brian for long. "Scares me." He began to twist his form into Brian's side, burying himself under the arm around him. "Makes me think things are nearing the end... with us..." He was happy for this quiet time, not sure why they were whispering, since they were alone. He shut his lids, then tucked his face into Brian's shoulder as if afraid of some mean monster.

"Scares me, too." Brian kissed Michael's forehead. "... but it goes away, because it tells me you care." He rested his chin on Michael's brow, rubbing over the waves of silky hair. "When I take in everything you say, I can hear how much thought you put into all your comments. Even if they're wrong or right, at the time, I do hear them."

Michael slid his hands up, caressing over Brian's breastbone, barely skimming the right nipple as he smoothed over the bare skin. "We have a lot of years together. Piles..." He smacked a kiss to Brian's flesh. "... upon piles of history and old baggage that keep stacking up." He completely turned his lower extremities, throwing one leg over both of Brian's. His cock fell flat, nicely, to Brian's hipbone.

"We said way too much to one another that night." Brian knew he didn't have to go into too much detail for Michael to understand which night he meant. He shut his eyes, feeling Michael snuggle closer, actually hugging him with both arms. He could always guarantee to feel whatever emotion Michael felt when he held him like this, close and comfy. He reached down to pick up the blanket hem, covering them with the thin sheet. He brought a hand up to sift through Michael's hair, massaging with his fingertips. His eyes flicked over to the digital clock, which read the early hour.

Didn't feel like Michael was leaving anytime soon. In fact, Michael was hibernating as near to Brian's skin he could get without being under it.

Michael began to pet Brian's side, on the right under his arm. "Anything you regret?" He lifted, slightly, moving to rest under Brian's chin, secure in a niche at the sleek neck and throat. He caressed back and forth with the back and front of his left hand.

"Yes... and no." Brian bent his right leg at the knee, hooking around Michael's ankle.

Michael situated to raise his torso up, on his elbow. "I was pleased to get it off my chest..." He noticed Brian averting his head, eyes drifting away, but Michael sent out his hand to grip the strong chin, forcing Brian to stare him down, look him dead in the eye. "... but watching your face... as I said those things to you..." He pressed a kiss next to the lips, watching them open, but tracing their outline. "... I can't do that again..." He shook his head, soothing the back of his hand down Brian's face, brushing the spiked bangs from Brian's brow. This time the kiss met its mark and Brian wasn't expecting the contact since he'd been ruthlessly teased for awhile. Michael drew away, hand spanned and clutching under Brian's jaw. "... you couldn't pay me any amount of money to hurt you like that... ever..."

Brian reached up to latch onto Michael's wrist, thumb rubbing the inside skin of the palm. "You've allowed me the space I needed to speak my mind. Do whatever I damn well pleased with no flack. That's been the first and only time I ever wanted to take what I said back... everything..." He tilted his head, lifting up to meet Michael's mouth again, his tongue came out to taunt the rosy skin. "... I wanted to stop... fuck... I wanted you to make me stop..."

They kissed hard, Brian's hands groping and sloping down Michael's back and bottom, attaching between the butt cheeks and drawing upward.

Michael began to smile against Brian's lips. "... because I finally screamed back...?" His hands went to slide about Brian's head, gripping behind the ears. He opened his mouth, letting Brian take whatever else he wanted, liking the roaming hands all over him. He was now placed directly on top of Brian, legs scooting to land on the sides of Brian's hips.

Brian nodded while kissing, meeting their tongues and biting at Michael's thickening lips. "And I thought everything you said was bullshit..." He fit Michael exactly where he wanted him, then planted a hand flat to the mattress and lifted his upper chest off the bed, Michael seated on his lap.

Neither of them were hard, yet, but they were on their way.

Michael tenderly smoothed four fingers over Brian's lips. "I'm sorry." Then kissed him senseless with an arm hooked about his neck, thrusting forward. His free hand traveled between their bodies, falling down to Brian's groin, passing his own hardening organ.

Brian groaned, hands open wide and spanning over Michael's arching back. Fingers tentatively sliding down to play at the beginning split of the bare bottom. "Don't be." Their faces slipped and slid together. "It was the 'wake-up' call I deserved."

They were breathing, labored, like panting. Their eyes flicked over one another, which made them grin shyly, blinking quick, bashful. They knew what they both wanted, knew it once they'd woken up. It filtered through them, merging together when they met.

Michael rose, the arm around Brian's neck, shuffling up, ruffling Brian's hair. Brian hid in the crook of Michael's neck, licking, kissing and biting, but always the gentlest of roughness.

Michael rested his jaw on top of Brian's head, loving the feel of softness on his skin, of hair, flesh and body; warm like a growing fire. He wanted to moan, call out from the way he felt, the way he was beginning to feel. He wanted to sob from the beauty of being together finally with the one man he loved more than anything in this world. "It nearly destroyed us." He tugged at a patch of Brian's hair, forcing his head backward. Brian gazed up at him with eyes at half-mast, then licked his lips. Michael found it hard to speak, to even swallow.

"Nah..." Brian gave out his typical wink, the bright sparkle to his hazel eyes. "... never would have happened..." He gave one tender and slow thrust upward, hitting Michael's backside, between his ass cheeks, but not entering. Brian smirked slyly, hearing Michael suck in a long breath, the way he crumbled in his arms, weakening. Brian watched Michael slowly sink back into his chest.

They knew they couldn't go too far without being able to come back, things never being the same. They were already different, oddly closer than ever.

"Tickled you're so confident." Michael sighed, tucking himself back into Brian's neck. He was relieved when Brian sunk backward against the array of pillows, one arm secured to his back, hand cupped about his left butt cheek.

They came close to fucking again. They'd made a promise. Brian made him promise. They wouldn't go any further with sexual intercourse until they got their test results. Neither of them willing to take the chance of fucking this relationship up with bad news.

"I am... always... with you..." Brian spoke the words into Michael's hair, cradling him to his chest. He widened his legs, letting Michael slip between his thighs. He arched a leg over Michael's calves, showing possession.

  
Michael closed his eyes, loving the way those words sounded, all by their lonesome. "Are you really okay with this?" He reached up a hand to soothe over Brian's chest, following the bumps and ridges of bone and muscles.

Brian furrowed his brow with concern. "What do you mean?"

"I want you..." Michael pecked a kiss to Brian's throat, picking the right prominent vein that sent shivers down Brian's body. "... so badly I ache, but I still feel..."

Brian brought up his hand to place an index finger over Michael's lips, flicking at the bottom one. "If I wanted more from you, I'd let you know." He watched Michael kiss his thumb pad, then take the digit into his mouth the way he would a cock. His cock? Brian stopped that seductive action by grabbing under Michael's chin and making him look up at him, so Michael knew he was genuine. "If I have to find a thousand other ways to have you... I'll make them happen... willingly..." He kissed Michael soundly on the mouth, then made sure to ease the pain with tiny kisses. "... it's never been all about sex with you, Michael." Brian smoothed his hand up the side of Michael's face.

"... never has..." Michael nodded his head, closing his eyes in shame. His body feeling much different than his heart.

"... never will be..." Brian slipped his hand lower, around Michael's throat, feeling the Adam's apple bump up and down as Michael swallowed his bravery.

"I don't want to leave you."

Brian felt the vibration of the words on his skin, it tingled and made him jolt. Where would Michael go? Would it be forever? "Then don't." His hand wasn't tight about Michael's neck, but when he brought the hand around to the back of Michael's head, he pulled on the small hairs, cupping the nape. "There's always a perfectly good-sized empty space right next to me."

Michael smiled, but the lasting waned as he moved upward, matching faces with Brian. "Tell me what you want most in life." He couldn't look Brian directly in the eyes, he already knew what he'd see.

"Jesus... one of those questions..." Brian chuckled deeply, his chest rumbling as he moved to poke and tickle Michael.

Michael snickered, grabbing Brian's hands swiftly, with such grace. He brought the fingers to his mouth, kissing them, rubbing the skin against his cheeks. "Nah... new rules I just thought up. Anything applies. We don't get hurt by what's said or done, because we really don't know what we have here..." Michael glanced down between their bodies, knowing it couldn't be defined. Not possible, ever. Not even now that things had shifted into something more tangible and real. He knew what he wanted, but did Brian want the same? "What we do know is... that... here we are... together..." Michael shifted his body to be more close, causing Brian to shut his lids on an internal moan. "... because it's what we want... what makes us feel good..."

"... sooooo, you want me to be serious...?" Brian teased, using his hand to cup Michael's cheek, he felt Michael push against his palm. He never knew one man could leave him breathless and speechless in one second of time.

"I want you... to be honest. Tell me..." Michael moved to open the space over Brian's right breast. "... your heart..." He caressed a hand over the nipple and bone, he bent to kiss the area where the beating increased beneath him.

Brian watched Michael rest his cheek on the space he motioned to, feeling the organ in question quicken and speed up, his lungs not able to catch up. "You... an' Gus..."

Michael smiled, his raised cheek moving over Brian's flesh. "Uh-huh... what about us...?" He cupped the left side of Brian's defined rib cage, soothing over the skin.

"I want the best for you two." Brian snaked both arms about Michael, plastering his face into the raven-black hair. "I want you both safe... loved well... and happy beyond measure..."

"Sounds reasonable." Michael placed his hand on the bed beside Brian, raising up, higher than Brian so he was hovering.

Brian looked up, caught in a trance of sorts. "I used to think..." His trailed his hands up to grab Michael about the hips, thumbs on the taut stomach muscles. "... well, I didn't know it was possible I could do any of those things, for either of you."

Michael transferred both hands to lay beside Brian's head on the pillows. He twirled his fingers in Brian's hair, making tiny-spiky curls. "You let us go, intentionally, thinking we'd be taken care of properly." He bent low to kiss Brian's temples. First the right, then little kisses to reach the left side.

Brian slid his hands up Michael's sides, coming up under his arm pits, then sending the backs down the slowly breathing chest above him. "I never wanted to be a part of something so bad. Like a family." He closed his eyes as Michael lovingly kissed every inch of his features, reaching his eyes, even making sure the lashes weren't forgotten.

How could something so simple be so damn sexy?

"You try hard not to adore Jenny, don't you?" Michael found that fact almost endearing.

"It's tough. She's you, in miniature female form." Brian locked his arms about Michael's back, latching onto his own wrist, applying gentle pressure to force Michael down, to lay flat. "I'm finding it difficult, because she makes me want things, all over again."

"She's a dream child. I couldn't have asked for a better daughter." Michael caressed his hand, trailing with his lips, over Brian's face. He ended up exactly where he wanted to be, at Brian's lips.

"Do you feel it?" Brian paused so long Michael actually tried to listen for some noise, a sensation or feeling, to wash over them both. "Do you feel that... something... when we're together...?"

Michael shut his eyes, leaning his forehead on top of Brian's. Now he knew what Brian meant and it broke him into pieces. "I've never not felt that feeling. Even when it's just you and me." He brought up his hand to cup Brian's cheek, thumb tracing the open mouth. "It feels more real with them, some great thing we can't deny."

Brian sunk in the bed to dip his head under Michael's chin, his head bumping along the jawline. "When they're gone, I ache..." He took Michael's empty hand and replaced it over his right breast, over his heart. "... for days after. Like when I don't see or talk to you for a few days." His own hand caressed over Michael's heart, sensing the quickening, the urgent need for breath. "I always feel like calling you... needing to hear your voice. I want to be honest, tell you what I'm feeling, but I cover it up, just to steal what time I do have with you."

Michael placed his hands over top of Brian's, then brought them to set beside Brian's head on the pillow. Michael pinned the wrists lightly down. "I feel the exact same way. But that familial feeling is tough without Hunter around... and Ben and I fighting over stupid shit..."

"You should've said something sooner. Told me... anything. I would've..."

"Gloated quite merrily." Michael adjusted his body over Brian's, sliding his legs on the outside of the long limber ones under him.

"No..." Brian shook his head adamantly in disagreement. "No matter what I said, I never wanted to be right. I never wanted you hurting... and alone..." He arched up and nudged Michael's face, wanting a kiss.

Michael simply slid their faces together, lips nuzzling Brian's ear. "I couldn't face you. I couldn't... let you know..." He blinked and shook his head. "Not because you turned out to be right, but I wanted you to be proud of me. Of doing something extraordinary and unheard of... on my own..."

Michael wasn't really that strong, as Brian broke free of the prison, reaching up to cup Michael's face. He brought Michael down to him. "I am proud." He meshed their brows as one, inhaling Michael's scent and essence. "So proud... and you are doing something quite remarkable on your own..."

Michael scoffed at Brian's boastful ways. "What? Of finally succumbing to your devilish charms?"

"No..." Brian chuckled, kissing Michael's lips, pulling away slowly, keeping their eyes in contact. "... well, yeah... but... you took a risk I'd never take myself..." He touched a finger to Michael's upper lip, where beads of sweat collected. "For whatever time you had, or do still have, with Ben..." He hated saying those words, but they were as true as he could bear. "... you did succeed, even if you think you failed..."

Michael snickered, bent to kiss Brian hard, then drew away. "Still doesn't sound that spectacular."

"You're kidding me, right?" Brian waited for Michael to say something, but he just nodded in response. "You went in a completely different direction from me, but you accomplished one good thing I'll never be able to do."

"What?" Michael could barely speak coherently, tears surfacing in the back of his throat.

"You finally know who you are... and what you want. I'll be searching for the rest of my life."

"I can help you with that." Michael grinned sheepishly, then sunk back to Brian's chest.

"Oh? Can you?" Brian quirked that lone eyebrow up and Michael sucked in a single intake of air.

Michael bent his left arm, resting his elbow on the pillow, but before he lay his head down he kissed the lifted eyebrow. "You're already so much more than you were five years ago."

Leave it to Michael to find the right words, humbling Brian into silence. "Punkin' out on marriage doesn't count." He turned his face into the shadow of Michael's head, staring off into the distance.

They both knew the name well, but mentioning it wasn't what was important.

"Honestly, it never would have lasted, never would have been wedded bliss and never what you knew you deserved. For him, either. You were mature enough to know all that."

"Mmm... what else?" Brian shifted in bed, snuggling closer to Michael, knowing he'd be loved and well-cared for with the tenderest of hands.

Michael took his empty hand and brushed back Brian's wispy locks of brown hair, tucking them behind his ear. He loved feeling Brian's tufts of breath on his skin. "You're a great father. Better than Jack. Your son adores you." He knew he hit the right nail on the head when Brian sunk deeper into him, like he was mesmerized by his tone of voice.

"He's a great kid. Not that difficult."

"You're a survivor." Michael began to pet Brian's face, then down his neck, along the collar bone. "You've almost been four years in remission."

"... and...?"

"Me."

Brian brought his head back up, rearranging it awkwardly on the pillow. "What about you?" He always loved hearing these explanations come out of Michael's mouth.

"You've never been a better friend to me. Ever." Michael cocked his own eyebrow up, leaned over to press his lips to Brian's. "Now doesn't count." He caressed a spot under Brian's chin. "Sure, at certain times you rip my fuckin' heart out, but in hindsight... you did me some favors I'll be forever grateful for."

"An' exactly what did I do?" Brian took the hand on his face and turned to kiss the inside curves.

"You let me fall in love." Michael swallowed when Brian went still, those dark hazel eyes moving to carefully watch every word pouring out of his mouth. "Real love. You let me go long enough to test my wings. To feel love back, when you knew you weren't capable or ready. Yes..." Michael chuckled, nodding at his own comment. "Yes, overbearing at times, but the genuine love of some who loved me in return... that's priceless." He was able to go back to cupping Brian's cheek. "It must have been tough... standing at my side, as my Best Man, watching Ben and I marry." He shut his eyes and pressed his forehead against Brian's jaw. "Fuck... watching me fly off to be with David in Portland..."

Brian slid his hand down to clutch Michael's wrist, nudging the palm. He closed his eyes at the painful memories, but having Michael hold him while he thought of them made it all seem sane. "Worst. Days. Ever."

Michael closed his own eyes, then bent quick to kiss Brian better, after all these years. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I deserved it." Brian gazed up at Michael, looking down at him, eyes unblinking. "I was letting you go, realizing how terribly I needed you. Not easy to give you up. Not easy to watch you walk away... twice. With Ben... you were happier than you'd ever been with me, into the arms of someone I knew intimately."

"You knew both of us 'intimately'... except... you hadn't had sex with me."

"Yet." Brian brought up both his arms to cross them behind his head and rest back. The man on the prowl was surfacing.

"Did you ever want to... you know... before?" Michael let his hand go trailing over Brian's bare chest.

Brian lowered one hand to catch Michael's fingers in his grasp. "Plenty of times."

"Even before you discovered 'other' boys?"

"You were the only boy for quite awhile."

"I bet I looked hot in your fantasy." Michael joked, teasing Brian into confession.

"Mmm, not really." Brian never cracked a smile once. "I liked everything about you. I never once changed a thing."

"Liar." Michael pecked Brian's lips. "Sounds good, but I don't believe you."

"Well, believe it, 'cause it's true." Brian slid his body up to sit against the wall and pillows at his back.

"You never had a Dream Date?" Michael couldn't fathom HE had been IT for Brian all those years. No one else would do.

"Uhm, no... because I wasn't an estrogen-charged fourteen-year-old girl." Brian crossed arms over his chest, giving Michael a strange look, wondering what he was snooping for.

"Sorry..." Michael smacked a hand to his face. "... I worded that wrong." He lowered his hand to rub over his jaw and chin. "Was there ever a type of man you fantasized about?"

"... and you can't count?"

Michael sighed heavily, not sure he wanted to know Brian pictured them together, for years. "Neither of us count."

"Mikey..." Brian crawled closer to Michael on the mattress, coming face to face. "... did you fantasize about me?" He reached out to grab Michael about the waist to tickle him.

Michael dodged him, slapping his hands away. "Of course! Everyone in our school did!"

Brian stopped his pursuit. "... but I never wanted them all back."

Michael knew what those next words would be... _"... except you, Michael. Always you."_. He closed his eyes and backed up a little, sitting on his backside. "You sure acted like you did."

"How else was I to get you to notice how desirable I was?"

"It backfired, genius." Michael was about to get up out of bed, to head into the kitchen, but Brian snatched his hand, tugging him back down.

"Hey!... We're having a conversation here. Stay." Brian patted the spot near him. "Look... you weren't ready for me. For us." He stared at Michael from the side of his eyes. "Don't be mad. It was so long ago, it doesn't matter."

"And what... you were ready for us?"

"No, of course not. I hadn't even had the opportunity to step outside our tiny fishbowl called Pittsburgh."

"You needed college more than I did. You deserved a way out. I knew I had to let you go or lose you for real."

Brian snagged Michael about the waist, hauling him over to sit on his stretched out legs. "You were always better at it than I was... saying goodbye." He glanced up, catching Michael's bowed head. He soothed over the naked back and then up to the hair. "It wasn't supposed to make you feel left behind. Like you never mattered to me or would never matter anymore." He secured both arms around Michael to hold him to his body. "I wanted you there with me even more, but by that time you had quit college and had different obligations."

Michael huffed out a long breath, then turned to wrap one arm about Brian, snuggling close in his embrace. "Did I make you feel like you didn't matter?"

"I wanted to help." Brian bent his head, still feeling that hurt when Michael kept refusing him. "Vic meant more to me than I knew. Not being there for him, Debbie and you about killed me."

Michael hugged Brian to his chest, fingers filtering through the hair. "I called you as often as I could. It got harder and more expensive to come visit you." He bent to kiss the soft locks. "Worse to keep walking away from you."

"The roads and phones went both ways. None of us were good or bad, just stupid." Brian shrugged his shoulders. "I figured it was my usual run of terrible luck."

"You thought we didn't care or worry about you?" Michael made Brian look up at him.

"I thought you all hated me for leaving. I was being rightfully punished. None of you ever knew how much I did care. I was a fool to walk away and not tell any of you how I felt." Brian closed his eyes at how achingly bitter sweet Michael's touch was, the tender way his eyes watch him intently. "You should have told me how bad things were... here, with Vic."

The idea of those days when they thought Vic was a goner, Brian and Michael held on tightly to one another just like all those years ago. Equally loving and adoring the one man who loved them the same in return.

"No. You needed the college education and degree. You had to prove to yourself and Jack that you could succeed on your own. You weren't nothing. You'd always make something of who you were." Michael grabbed both sides of Brian's head to make them look at each other. "Is that why you wanted to come back? Why you eventually came back, after graduating?"

Brian locked his hands around Michael's wrists. "I came back because my family needed me."

Michael furrowed his brow in confusion. "Your... family?"

Brian found Michael's weakest point and flipped them over to land on Michael's back. "Yeah... you... and Vic... and Deb." The bed sheet was tangled between them as Brian hovered over Michael. "But when I got here, I realized I needed you all more than you needed me." He released Michael from being pinned down, but Michael remained where he was in the same position. Brian raised up on his hands, flat on the bed. "Truth is... cold, hard reality is less tolerable alone and lonely. I'd rather be surrounded by people and things I know, even if the only feelings they have for me border on hatred or liking me simply because I hang with you..."

Michael swallowed nervously, feeling quite turned on with Brian over him in that menacing, animalistic manner. "Is it always that bad?"

"It can be, but every once and awhile... when you aren't around... I see a glimmer of hope." Brian shrugged one shoulder, flexing his forearms and biceps. "I'm not anticipating we'd all become best buddies, have sleepovers, talk smack about other people and braid one anothers' hair." He enjoyed watching Michael laugh underneath him, feeling their bodies shake in tandem. "I, also, don't want the sentimental crap out of pity. If it's not genuinely felt, I don't want it near me."

Michael's face became serious, one hand reaching up to touch Brian's chest. "You know... we've never talked about it, except in slight conversation."

"What?"

"Death." Michael blurted the word out, not really knowing how Brian would feel.

"Little grim for a bedtime story, Mother Goose."

"I'm serious. Wouldn't you think we'd talk about the fact a lot? Not only because of who we are but what's happened to both of us, on separate occasions."

"What? Because we're gay men?"

"And... we've met our own mortality, head on."

"Explain before my brain melts." Brian moved from above Michael to sit on the bed.

Michael raised himself up on both elbows. "Me and you... we always discuss everything, why not this fact? And, yes... because we are gay men. If you're not white... straight... rich... American or male in this country... you're hated and discriminated against in some manner."

"So... women... people of color... people of different nationalities and sexual preferences should automatically discuss situations that may or may not involve their untimely demise?"

Michael brought up an index finger to stress one more point. "We forgot religion, too."

"Michael, seriously... what... is wrong with you?"

"I don't know. Ever since Vic..." Michael moved to sit up in bed. "... not his actual death, but since his 'ghostly' visits, I've just been thinking."

"Then stop, please..." Brian reached out for one of Michael's dangling hands. "... or you'll give yourself an ulcer. It's like daring to ask about the meaning of Life."

"Why not? Is it because it's too complicated and difficult to answer? Is it too broad and general a topic? Or is it too personal a preference over world thought?"

"Jesus... do you really lay awake and wonder about these things?"

"Don't you?"

"Sometimes, but, Michael... I don't let it bother me. I've got other things to worry about. Things that are closer to me."

"Like Gus?"

"You... Gus... Jenny... a little bit of Deb, still. Jumbled in there, in the underbelly, would be Ted and Emmett. Maybe some with Justin. Everything else is immaterial... replaceable. Death isn't selective or preventable. You can't plan for the perfect outcome, no matter how much you care... or love..." There was something odd in Michael's eyes that prevented Brian from wanting to continue talking. "... that... person..."

"It really bothers me that you don't think of yourself... at all." Michael stood up on his knees, coming toward Brian. "If you're so worried about me... if I'm your top priority, don't you think I, or someone else, would feel like you matter just as much as us?"

"You mean... take care of myself so I don't hurt those I care for?"

"Exactly." Michael realized how rough and loud he sounded, so he softened his tone. "Probably."

"Does this mean I have to stop thinking so highly of you?"

"No, but... could you... I don't know... start thinking of me as your equal?" Michael crawled over onto Brian's lap, watching him turn them so Brian's feet dangled off the bed frame and touched the hard wood floor. "I think I've reached a certain point where I've earned that right."

"Yes." Brian nodded, letting Michael fit himself over his legs and around his waist. "I could start that right now."

"What do you...?"

Brian sent his hand down to grab a hold of Michael's cock and tugged, gently. "Well, whatda'ya' know... you are 'equally' as horny as I am..."

"Brian, I should..." Michael groaned out his last portion of words incoherently.

"Stop thinking... stop talking..."

"... go home..." Michael squeaked out on a long exhale of breath.

"Why? You'll only be alone... and horny. Stay..." Brian arched upward to kiss Michael, thrusting in the same direction. "... never leave..." He muttered the words over Michael's skin. "... I'll help relieve you of your pent-up sexual stress and alleviate your mortality woes. Having multiple orgasms makes one feel very much... alive..."

"He'll know..." Michael collapsed onto Brian's chest, sending them over onto Brian's back.

"Like he already doesn't know we're together, which frustrates him anyway. Think of what he could conjure up if he really knew what we were up to. He won't know specifics unless you tell him."

"I should tell him." Michael properly fell over, rolling Brian with him. "He still thinks I want this trip for us." He hooked his arm about Brian's neck, roughly kissing Brian. "Something will go wrong, if I go." He was almost out of breath, from wanting Brian so much. "I can feel it." Michael could only speak in short sentences.

"I told you already..." Brian reach down to caress Michael from head to waist, one complete straight line over his naked, exposed body. "... the choice is yours to make. I can't... and I won't... do it for you." He bit and suckled at Michael's mouth, his body positioning over Michael's form, kicking away the blankets. He began from directly below Michael's Adam's apple, then kissed a trail downward.

"... but you won't make leaving... any easier, will you?" Michael watched Brian lower himself along his body, searching down, his lips smacking and tongue licking, venturing toward his groin.

"I'm not forcing you into a corner where you have to pick me." Brian lifted his head up long enough to talk. "I just need the time to hope you'll consider what you'll be in for..." He smiled mischievously on his way. "... proper incentive for my side..."

"Christ..." Michael tangled his fingers in Brian's hair, tugging then combing softly. "... I'm a dead man anyway..." He might as well enjoy himself on the way to debauchery and adultery.

 

 **~*~TBC...**


	2. Chapter 2

~*~*~*~  
 _ **A week later... a well-dimmed hospital room... nearing 6:30 am...**_  
 **Kinney, Brian A.** \- _Critical Care Patient in ICU/CCU (Intensive and Critical Care Units) - RM 1043..._  
 **Michael C. Novotny** \- _Visitor/Family Member of Patient Kinney, Brian A._

  
 _"Michael..."_

 _"... hmm..."_

 _"Sweetie... wake up..." There was the softest brush to his cheek, following the trail of dry tears on his face...  
_  
~*~*~

Michael shot up, alert and not-so oriented, his eyes immediately darted toward the head of Brian's bed.

The room was still dark, bluish early morning light infiltrating the room once filled in shadows, the ones that had enveloped around Michael and held him tight, making him fall asleep holding Brian's hand. The hand that never moved, never squeezed back and never fidgeted once, even on the loudest commands.

He felt the hand to his head, brushing over his hair. When did his Mom show up? Or wait... Brian... had he...?

When Michael finally blinked himself to complete awareness, he found out it wasn't his mother or Brian. It was the night nurse, Ruth, assigned to Brian's care. Michael liked Ruth, she reminded him of his mother, but more tolerable. Probably five years older and slightly more world-weary than anyone he'd ever known. She could arm wrestle Jack Kinney to the ground. If Brian was awake, he'd have liked knowing her. She pulled no punches, took no one's shit and did her own thing on her shift. No apologies and no regrets... just like Brian. No one thought anyone could melt her stone cold heart, but Michael managed to work wonders. Something about his impish chocolate eyes filling with tears usually did the trick.

Michael patted the wrinkled but soft hand on his cheek. "Sorry, Ruth. Just kick me outta your way."

"Please... I'd no sooner shoot a squirrel between its nuts." Ruth always had some colorful remark to say.

"Nonsense, Michael... we let you sleep a little longer." Across the bed stood the night nursing aide, Missy, her feather-light Southern drawl quite relaxing on the ears. Bottled blond, burgeoning girlish figure in a twenty--something sort of way and all too chipper for six o'clock in the morning. But that's how she always was, even in daylight. She waved Michael's apologies away with a smile.

"Thank you for that." Michael chuckled softly, rubbing one hand over his face, hoping no one saw him weaken emotionally. He tried so hard to be tough to make it through another day, looking for the end of the week. He pushed the chair back against the wall, turning around with hands on his hips. "Anything I can help you ladies with?" He was always willing to lend a hand, more so to keep people from messing with Brian than really being kind and helpful. Brian being this helpless made him heavily possessive.

Ruth and Missy shared a look across the bed as they wrote down all the chart information they needed for the bi-hourly checks.

"Well..." Missy began but then once Ruth shook her head; she shut her mouth.

Ruth turned to Michael, chart clipboard tucked under one arm. "Rounds are this morning. Dr. Berchaurd wants to use Brian as the new students' case study."

"We were... gonna gussy Brian up for his unexpected audience." Missy added with a wide grin on her face, perfect teeth sparkling. "We don't want our best patient to lose bonus points." She fiddled with straightening the bed sheets over Brian's stiff frame.

"Miss-..." Ruth called out in a low, even tone.

"I know, Ruth, I know..." Missy put up a palm to ward off Ruth. "... it's not a joke, but... we gotta laugh sometime..."

Michael gave Missy a smile back with a light laugh. "It's funny, Missy. I promise."

"Why thank you, kind sir." Missy curtsied properly, like a nice Southern belle.

"Bed bath?" Michael asked out of curiosity.

"Yeah." Missy accompanied a nod with her response. "Wanna help?"

"Missy." Ruth began to reprimand.

"It ain't like he's never seen 'im nekkid before." Missy gestured to Michael, pointing toward his hand, the banded ring finger. "They're husbands, for Christ's sakes."

Michael balked at the one statement, his eyes going wide. Had they thought that all this time? That he and Brian had simply been hiding this fact from prying eyes? Well, there weren't any family members, or other visitors, to ask and Michael had begun to take over Brian's care as if they had been together, like lovers. He didn't fault them for assuming anything. He placed his palms together, breathing into the cup of his hands. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, in and out.

"Missy... girl... now look what you did..." Ruth tsk-ed over at Missy.

Missy's soft shoe pads could be heard on the tiled floor. "Oh, jesus... why didn'ya tell me to shut my mouth, Ruthie?" She came around the bed and put an arm about Michael's shoulders. They were almost the same height. "There, there, Michael... Brian'll be fine. Hear me?" She patted his biceps and rubbed over the shirt material down his arm. "Can I interest you in loaning me yur strong muscles?"

"Huh?" Michael finally lifted his head, tears pooling precariously in his eyes.

Missy swallowed nervously, backing up, not sure how personal Michael wanted her to become. Like if he needed a hug or something. "Ruth's got a mountain of paperwork at the desk for next shift, comin' in at seven... she'll prolly wanna give report to the day shift nurses. I just... could use the extra hand, ya know..."

Michael watched those intense blue eyes look into his and he understood what Missy was really doing for him. More time with Brian. To touch him, take care of him, make sure he was safe and sound. To be a part of Brian's new life, feeling important and close to him. He was shocked that someone so blonde could be so intuitive.

In that one little second... Missy was his favorite human in the world.

~*~*~*~  
 _ **15 minutes later... same hospital room...**_

  
"... so then he goes... _'Misty... woman... I don' know whut I'm gon'a do wit you...'_..." Missy was mimicking exactly how her longtime boyfriend had proposed to her, hands on her hips, one hip cocked toward the right. "... _'... but I don' wanna let you go... so I guess I hafta marry ya...'_ ... Can you believe that?" She shook her head moving back to help Michael tend to Brian's care. "He gets down on one knee, right where I'd jus' scrubbed his oil-n-grease caked footprints off my wood floors... an' he asks me, flat out..." She continued to gab on as she redressed Brian in the standard hospital gown. He was rolled toward Michael, facing Michael's pelvis, his hands holding tubing, wires and lukewarm skin.

Michael couldn't look up from intensely concentrating on Brian's head resting limply on his left forearm, but he was listening. Something in the silence to bother his flittering mind.

"Was it romantic?" Missy asked as she gestured for Michael to lay Brian back down as they slid the gown underneath his back, letting Michael catch the sleeve on the right side. They would tie Brian's hospital gown in the front to allow easy access to Brian's chest and lower portions. They had to turn Brian onto his left side, now, in order to make sure the material of the gown didn't bunch under.

Michael brought up Brian's right arm and slipped the appendage into the short sleeve, placing the low hanging, mid-thigh hem to cross over the left. Missy tied the strings together, closed. Michael kept his hand flat to Brian's hip and right pelvic bone, feeling the added padding of protective underwear. It didn't shame him to feel the sensation, but it made him realize how unconscious Brian was when they couldn't even determine when he needed to go to the bathroom. The urethral catheter was the other added bonus, which ran down Brian's inner thigh, under his right knee to a bag hooked off his bed frame to catch urination. Michael checked the bag, just to be cautious. No blood and a healthy, normal output.

"What?" Michael shook his head of the cloud overtaking him, more focused on Brian, watching the pallor of his skin look much too pale against the light pastel fabrics and white cotton.

As they began to turn Brian over again, onto his back, Missy hooked her arm under Brian's left pit. "On three..."

Michael did the same on Brian's right side, realizing Missy wanted to lift Brian higher on the mattress.

"...1..."  
"...2.."  
"...3..."

Missy sighed, unlocking the guardrail from the down position, swiping her tight blonde pin-curls from over her brow. "I've been goin' on an' on 'bout my own man, honey..." Missy's drawl was low and calm, very comforting. "Maybe you were lettin' me ramble to be nice... but you've not said one peep... you okay?" As Michael nodded slowly, glancing down at Brian, palm flat on his deeply breathing chest, Missy eyed the tightening of Michael's fingers into the gown. Her eyes came back to Michael's face. "When he asked you to marry him... was it romantic?"

Michael looked over at Missy, watching the tender way she pulled up the sheets and blanket, making sure the hem hit mid-chest, above Brian's waist. She placed the left arm outside, on top of the covers.

"Brian's isn't the 'romantic' type, but..." Michael scraped his bottom teeth on his bottom lip. "... he does have his moments..."

Missy smiled, chuckling lightly. Her hand remained cupped about Brian's left shoulder, around the solid joint. "... yea... I've known Van since we wus two bare-nekkid tykes swimmin' in our neighborhood pool. His Ma an' mine were best friends in school. We kinda grew up together." She rubbed a knuckle gently over Brian's flushed cheek. Her left hand was clamped over Brian's left hand. "I just... I don' know what I'd do, ya know..." Her eyes looked across to Michael's. "... if I ever had to be where you are." She shrugged one shoulder. "I guess we all don' really know what we're willin' ta face until we're there, huh?" She then trailed her hand into Brian's hair, brushing back the stringy, overgrown locks. "I think we can take care of this... mop. You wanna do the honors?"

Michael furrowed his brow in confusion. "Do what?"

Missy took out a small square plastic bag, holding it up. "Shampoo in a bag. Ain't nuthin' fancy, but we do what we can to keep him comfortable. Since he's pretty much hooked to this bed."

Michael nodded his head, trying to speak and realizing he was choking up. "Can I...?" He cleared his throat and swiped at the corner of his eyes. "Is it possible to shave him? Since we're on a roll..." He lifted up one side of his mouth in a half grin.

"Thinkin' of takin' your man out?" Missy asked with a slow wink and jut of her hip.

Michael blinked, his mouth open to speak, but he chuckled instead. "Nah... Brian... he's..." How should he say this without making Brian seem selfish or egotistical? "... well, he's not exactly vain, he's just always kept himself well-groomed." He sat down beside Brian's right hip, picking up Brian's hand and compacting the shape between his two hands. "He, uh... probably would go apeshit to see what I've let him turn into."

Missy turned her head to the right, staring down at Brian, imagining him devoid of anything hooked to him at the moment. "I think he looks han'som'."

"He always does." Michael spoke quickly, on a whisper.

"Stubble makes 'im look kinda..."

"Old?"

"... nope... mature... or, uhm..." Missy snapped her fingers. "... dis-tinguished...!"

"Well, Brian doesn't age well, in his own mind... he'd say he looked like a hermit wilderness hunter or a lonely lumberjack."

Missy used her index finger to gesture over Brian's cheeks and jaw. "Ya don' hafta shave 'im completely. Just a trim, clean it up real nice." She turned to watch Michael staring at Brian, she wanted to smile, but the somber look to those brown eyes stopped her cold. "How 'bout the hair? I could find you some scissors."

"I like it longer." Michael couldn't say what he really wanted.

Missy nodded her head in understanding. "Ahhh, yes... somethin' to run yur fingers through." She crossed her arms over her chest.

"Sort of." Michael snickered at the real reason he liked the hair that length.

"If you don' mind me askin'... how long you known 'im?"

"Nearly all my life." Michael knew that could be taken in many different ways. "Since we were fourteen."

"Wow! Really?!" Missy shook her head in awe, never thinking how alike she and Michael could be. "That's... amazin'! Van an' I... we... we weren't always in love, but we sorta knew if there wasn't goin' ta be anyone else... we'd be it for each other. Kinda be like Fate kickin' us in the rear. Prolly tired of waitin' on our slow asses to wake up an' look right under our noses..."

Michael leaned his body into Brian's frame. "... know what you mean..." He muttered under his breath.

Missy cleared her throat, handing Michael the square bag. "Instructions are simple. Wet the hair, first. Put the cap over all the hair. The shampoo is powdery, like Talcum, an' it starts ta work once it touches wet hair. Like I tole ya... not like a fancy salon, but it cleans great an' smells nice." She wandered toward the door, reaching out for the handle. "Git started on that... an' I'll be back wit all the things for you to shave 'im."

Michael realized how quiet and rude he'd been. "Thanks, Missy."

Missy waved the comment on by. "Won't hear complainin' from me." With that, she was gone, leaving the room in complete silence, except for the machines attached to Brian's system.

Michael kept Brian's hand in his left, picking up the "shampoo in a bag" with his right hand. He let the bag lay on Brian's chest as he read over the easy How-To list, just as Missy explained to him earlier. He took a moment to breathe and calm himself, feeling that overload of emotions hit him square in the gut. He played with Brian's fingers and palm in his hands. He felt weird, not like he wanted to leave, but as if he had no where else to go. If he did leave, Brian would come with him, no matter what shape he was in. Better to keep Brian in the hospital, warm and safe... alive, hanging on.

He knew the minute he left he couldn't bear not knowing... not knowing if Brian would finally wake and wondering if it truly mattered if he was the first face Brian saw. One thing Michael was sure of was... ditching Brian, because this was all too hard and unbearable, was never an option.

Even though neither of them had never made a vow or sworn a commitment, Michael was forever connected to Brian and leaving would slowly kill them both. It really felt as if they were married, Michael willing to take care of Brian - in good times and in bad, for better or for worse, in sickness and in health. As long as Michael was living and breathing, able to witness Brian surviving, day by day... they'd soldier on, together.

Michael closed his eyes, bringing Brian's hand to his face, the back of the limp hand brushing the stubbled cheek, along the square jawline. Michael hadn't shaved, either. He tucked the hand safely under his chin, on his neck. He began to speak softly, voice causing vibrations on the slight skin to skin touch.

Michael sucked in a long breath, then exhaled. "I know you have no idea I'm here... probably sense bodies, but not aware it's me..." Dark lashes fluttered upward to look at Brian laying still on the bed. "That's okay. I'm fine with that." He turned his face to press lips to skin. "I'm here, not going anywhere. Not even if you were awake right now, and you grumbled..." He made himself laugh at the vision of Brian grumbling, like he did often. "… and you kicked me out. I'd wait for you outside." He used his right hand to demonstrate what he'd do. "I'd pull a chair to sit at your door and I'd stay there knowing..." He shook his head, smiling at the image in his mind, playing out. "... there'd be a moment when you'd call me back, unable to stand another second apart, knowing I might hate you..." He choked on the words, pressing Brian's hand to his quivering lips. "... I dreamed of us again. Like I'm re-living those last few days with you." He turned his eyes to stare at Brian. "... it's only been a week, but it feels like eons ago. I suppose it's my mind on rewind, wondering where things went wrong... wondering... if I missed your 'signal'..." He quirked up one side of his mouth, looking at Brian shyly, under his wet lashes. "... something important you said. Something you hid in a message to me. Like you told me... I LOVE YOU... and I failed you..." He paused unable to continue for a bit, without another breath. "Problem is... everything you say is wrapped around some other emotion... and it's killing me that I could have ignored it..."

Michael covered his own hand over his eyes, closing them as his tears fell. "Shit!..." He leaned his face on Brian's hand. "Tell me... tell me I'm doing this right... tell me I'm not keeping you here for me..." He opened his eyes, watching the length of Brian's body, still not moving. "... you asked me a question, a week ago... on one of the first nights we spent together. You asked me if I feel **it**... when we're together..." He shook his head, laughing foolishly at himself. "I thought I knew what you asked, but now I know... I know what **it** is... and **it** is keepin' me here... **it** is tellin' me to never let you go... **it** is even, somehow, keepin' you alive... as best anything can..." He swallowed nervously, averting his head and wiping a hand over his face. "At some point... you and I have to agree to stop talking in codes... to come out with what we're really feeling..." He turned back to look deeply at Brian, watching for any signs of awareness. "... maybe I'm jumping to one huge-ass conclusion, but I know you'd never make a move on your own or say words without knowing exactly where I'm at..."

Michael opened Brian's hand, using his own left hand to press the dry, cool palm to his own cheek. "I love you... you dope..." He laughed as he shook his head, feeling stupid for saying it out loud when Brian was unconscious. "I know you know -or knew- but did you ever hear me say the words without meaning a friendship/I-want-you-around kind of love?" When Brian didn't respond, Michael nodded his head. "That's what I thought." He chuckled at his weirdness, resting his right hand on Brian's body, fingers splayed over the blanket covering Brian's chest. "Well... that's not remotely what I feel. I haven't felt that way in a long time." He shut his lids, feeling exhausted. "... I love you..." He spoke the words softly, almost like a prayer on his trembling lips. "... an' I'm not scared. I never was, ever. And I'm not now..." He rested his head on Brian's abdomen, facing down Brian's body. "I'm not even afraid of what will happen once you do wake up. I'm here... here for every last fuckin' tragic, frightening thing imaginable we might face... an' yes... I said 'we'."

Michael picked himself off of Brian's body, feeling as if he weighed a ton and caused Brian some pain. He shifted upward, closer to Brian's face. "That's it... that's all I have, right now. So please..." He brought Brian's hand back to his cheek, kissing the inner palm. "... please come back to me... soon, huh?" He snickered with a wane smile. "I can't do this every day, they'll lock me up." He began to move away, sliding off the mattress. "Oh.. and... next time... don't take me so literally. You can be The Hero all you want, but keep it low scale. Only me and our family..." He pressed his face into the warming skin. "... or just me... is fine..."

On Brian's heart monitor the steady heart rate showed a minor increase. Not enough to make Michael notice an obvious difference, unless he was looking at the waves. It did show that Brian had heard something, highly aware of Michael's touch, even in an unconscious state.

Michael turned his face away from the door, wiping away his tears in secret. He climbed off the bed, knowing he had to make himself presentable, since Missy would return. He walked around the room, to the other side of the bed, to pick up the empty basin to fill with hot water. He wandered aimlessly into the private bathroom, turning on the faucet knobs.

As Brian's right arm rested at his side, the one Michael had touched for a good twenty minutes, the fingers began to twitch independently of one another. They felt the warmth leave, the cool air beginning to overtake the flushed skin. He twitched again, but then nothing more...

 **~*~TBC...**


	3. Chapter 3

_**Five days ago... a late-night cell phone conversation...** _   
**Brian Kinney** \- _home... The Loft..._   
**Michael Novotny** \- _not home... place : unknown..._

  
"Hullo?" The voice was garbled, speaking into the plushness under his right cheek, protected by the cushions in front of him. It was as if he'd slept with the cordless phone tucked under his torso, awaiting this very call.

"I need to see you." The second voice was hurried, rushed, as if he'd been running for miles. His heart was racing, but he hadn't moved one inch.

Brian lifted his head up from the pillow and squinted into the darkness. "Who is this?"

"... ha-ha... fun-nee..." Michael cracked up laughing all too loudly into his cell's microphone. "... sorry..." He rubbed three fingers over his perspiring brow. "... quit joking... I'm serious..."

Brian had been laying on his stomach, crushed beneath thin sheets and decorative pillows. He sat up, feet planted on the shag carpeting of his living room floor. "I know." He wrapped his naked form in the nearest top sheet, pushing off the sofa cushions. "You sound serious." He made his way toward one of the tall, floor-to-ceiling windows. With one limber foot, his right, he dragged over the rolling alcohol bar, deciding to perch on the tiny window sill as they talked.

"I can be there...." Michael glanced at his watch and the digital numbers on the LCD screen. "... in less than twenty minutes." This was an appointment he knew he wouldn't be late for.

"Is there a problem, Michael?" Brian wasn't trying to refuse, but there was something weird in Michael's voice. An extra urgency Michael couldn't or wasn't able to communicate. Brian slipped a hand down the slit between the sheer drapery, looking out into Pittsburgh's night skyline. He didn't know why, but standing near a window, looking out of the transparent glass often gave him the sensation Michael wasn't far. Even though Michael's voice was in his ear, there was a need for closeness... a desire to make every moment more precious than the last. "Michael...?"

The other line was way too quiet.

"You're not alone, are you?" Michael smacked a hand over his forehead, covering his eyes as if ashamed. "You were out... at Babylon... or Woody's... and you..." He took a nervous swallow. "... no, no... wait! Even better - you were surfing the Internet, got into a chat room. Someone's already on their way." There was a tiny flutter of a chuckle, but solemn and soft. "Well..." Michael licked his dry lips, clearing his choked throat. "... don't let him in. He'll probably be there sooner than I can, but... I'll 'handle' him, when I get there." He let his head hit his own window. "... if he's gorgeous... has a beautiful body, like you do... I could be talked into sharing... but not a threesome... I won't..."

Brian closed his eyes and crossed an arm over his chest, only one hand was keeping him covered in the sheet as he sat down. He picked up the cigarette and lit one as he poured himself half a glass of bourbon. "… Michael..." He said the name only to knock some sense into Michael's rambling. Brian smiled shyly, feeling flushed."... you think I have a beautiful body?" He took a sip of the alcohol, with the cigarette in between his fingers.

"... and..." Michael let out a long, frustrated sigh. "... you know you're already gorgeous... so, yeah... What?"

"I'm trying to be a good boy here." Brian set down his glass, realizing how long it had been since he drank this particular bottle of bourbon. "You're not helping me behave." The type of alcohol wasn't really his style, so he took another drag off his cigarette.

"There isn't a soul there, huh?" Michael was exacerbated with himself for acting jealous, too out in the open for Brian to feel comfortable and not smothered. "I'm freaking out over nothing?"

Brian snickered, leaning back against the cool window pane, blowing out the smoke in his mouth. "I like hearing your Alpha male voice... it's kinda sexy..." He closed his eyes and thought about what else he could say, but he somehow knew jokes and teasing wouldn't bring Michael closer, they might chase him away. "I'm alone... all by myself... unless somebody managed to crawl through my window, while I was sleeping."

"Asleep? I woke you up?" Michael shut his eyes and banged his head on the glass. "... fuck..."

Brian laughed at the hushed explicative. "Barely. I have an early morning meeting with a client. It's the only time he has available for me." He sighed as if he was used to days like these. "I made it a boring, early night. I even stayed in, ordered take-out and worked on the account..."

"Why didn't you call? I could have brought the food over, kept you company while you worked."

Brian chuckled deeply, shaking his head as if Michael could actually see him. "I wouldn't have touched one part of that file, with you around." He sucked in another hit of nicotine, moving the phone out of the way of the smoke he exhaled. "What are you doing?" He looked down and swiped away stray ash from the bed sheet. He rolled his wrist over to glance at the time and discovered how late it had gotten. Certainly not enough time to make an evening with Michael, like before.

"... talking to you... on the phone..." Michael teased, knowing Brian wasn't truly in the mood to reciprocate back.

"... har-har..." Brian sniffled out a snicker through his nostrils. "... what do you want, Michael?" He couldn't ask Michael outright, even though they both wanted the same thing. He wouldn't put himself out there like that to be rejected. He had to make Michael make the first move... always. He wasn't about to make his bad rep infringe on Michael's pristine perfection.

"Look... I know it's terribly late, half the night is over already. I couldn't even begin to conjure up a decent cover to tell Ben where I'd be going. He'd never believe me... well, he never does, but that's not your problem..." Michael sighed, shaking his head and rubbing a palm over his tired eyes. "I mean it... I am serious. I tried falling asleep, but I kept tossing and turning. The bed was too empty, so I came downstairs... thought I could hide my sorrow in food, but I'm not... hungry..." He licked his lips again, imagining the very person he was "hungry" for. "... oh, gawd..." Michael made a little moan under his breath. "... I need you, Brian... apparently I even need you so I can fall asleep."

Brian shook his head in awe, finding it hilarious, to himself, that they were suffering from the same bout of sickness. "One day without me... and you're back for more?" He cleared his throat, rubbing down his neck and over his bare collar bone to cup a shoulder joint. "What's wrong with your husband now? Is he completely broken? Lost a certain... 'part' he can't function without?" Then he wrinkled his brow in puzzlement. "Wait... why is your bed empty? It's almost 11:30pm..." Did that mean Michael's whole house was empty? He was as alone as Brian was?

"I don't know, DAD. Ben had a phone call around 8:30 tonight, took it into his office. Things seemed fine for awhile, then the phone would ring, like, on the half-hour. Finally, by 10pm... I think Ben got tired. I was doing a load of laundry and... when Ben came back into the kitchen, where I was doing dishes... he said he had to go out and get some milk..."

Sounded plausible, excluding the creepy, mystery phone caller.

"... oh..." Brian sniffed, the puffed on the last of his cigarette.

"I bought a gallon of milk two days ago... we're not out..." Michael added with no inflection to his voice, just determined not to be knocked off his feet if Ben was doing exactly what he was doing with Brian, with someone else.

"... ahhhhhhh..." Brian wouldn't explain the tinge of pleasure in his tone. "... what's good for the goose might be good for the gander..." He kept the feeling to himself, knowing Ben wasn't as experienced at this "straying" thing than he was. In fact, it felt like Ben wasn't trying to hide anything at all. Was Ben attempting to make Michael "fight" for him? Brian shook his head and body, telling himself it wasn't his place to discuss this with Michael. Ben was making his own mistakes, paving his own path without Brian's help. He'd keep the excitement down to a minimum, save the cheering for later.

"... whatever..." Michael's voice didn't sound all that strong anymore, like he'd weakened. "... forget I called... sorry I woke you... good luck with that meeting... tomorr-..."

"... Michael... stop..." Brian's voice wasn't rough or over-commanding, it was used to calmly making Michael breathe. "... I wasn't really sleeping as much as tossing and turning too..."

There was seconds of silence where neither of them talked or even breathed.

"... have you touched yourself... yet...?" Michael interjected the quiet with a really obscure, off-topic question.

The inquiry threw Brian in a tailspin. "Christ..." He covered his own eyes. "... I've created a monster."

Michael smiled, internally, as well. "Well... have you?" Not as if he wanted to know, it simply made him feel good to know since he already knew Brian fantasized about him.

"Did you?!" Brian barked lightly back at Michael, thinking he'd hear him get pissed off.

"... eh... I tried... wasn't the same..." Michael spoke as if he was giving out a recipe for crumb coffee cake. "... I mean I could feel you, touching me... fingers, skin, whatnot... but... there's that moment when you're peaking or just about to... feel the rise of blood and... whoosh!... but you turn over and... there's no one there... and suddenly you're all kinds of kooky-strange... and your wracked in a guilt-n-shame spiral and you curl up on your side, letting everything just dry up and die away..."

"... Michael..." Brian closed his eyes and tried to swallow without choking.

Michael couldn't help but lightly chuckle, loving that Brian didn't like knowing he could have jacked-off on his own and felt some type of displeasure or sadness. He hadn't... he'd thought about it, but another night without Brian wasn't in the cards. Michael could almost not bear Ben touching him at all, not even thinking about sex or kissing again. It was Brian... or nothing at all, not even himself. "Think of it this way... we'll both sleep better after this..." He tried to figure out a way to coerce Brian into accepting his arrival. Not that he'd refuse him, but that he'd feel good about them being together... again, like before.

"This... is not how I pictured this moment being..."

"Why?" Michael almost felt ecstatic about being the person who said these next words. "You want romance and seduction?" If Brian wanted them, Michael would try his damnedest to supply them.

"No, but..." Brian sighed heavily in frustration. "... there should be more finesse than a, _"Hey, would you like to come over and mutually spank our monkeys?"_..."

Michael outright chuckled loudly, having to turn his mouth away from the phone. "That's all I really need." He glanced at his watch again. This conversation was growing long. "I can be there in ten..."

"I thought you said twenty?"

"Not if I time this right and hit all the green lights." Michael shrugged his shoulders. "If not... I'll run a few reds."

"NO! You will not!!" Brian didn't realize he'd said the words so forcibly, until he heard Michael snickering in his ear drum. "Damn..." He put a hand to his forehead.

"... Brian... you knew I'd call you, didn't you?" Michael sat back, realizing that he'd been worried for no reason. He didn't want to say it or tell Brian what he was doing, but it seemed as if Brian had been waiting for this call, actually expecting Michael to cave in and need him badly enough.

"I'm not bragging or nothing... but they usually want seconds..." Brian didn't want to bring up the fact of other men between he and Michael, but Ben was always the "sore thumb" already stuck between them and fairly stationary.

"Technically..." Michael smiled, sticking his tongue in the side of his cheek. "... I've had more than seconds..."

Brian was stunned by Michael's admission. "I like you. You're special."

"Yeah... lovely... makes me wanna run right over."

Brian cleared his throat, tucking his hand under one arm pit. "... there's this spot on your neck, if I kiss it... you curl into me..." He let Michael soak that tidbit in, before he continued. "... but then there's this other spot, just on the inner portion of your left thigh... if I lick and kiss it... you wrap..."

"Is that some threat?" Michael interrupted Brian's list of "Spots on Michael's Body to Torture".

"A promise."

"I'll be there in five seconds..." There was a slam of a car door. "... if you dare to let me in..."

"Wha-? Mich-..." Brian quickly got off his butt, looked out his window, lowering his eyes to find Michael leaning against the driver side of his car. Michael waved and Brian's bed sheet fell, pooling at his feet. The sheer white drapery was the only thing covering Brian's naked form, but Michael didn't know he was naked. Brian put a hand flat to the glass surface as if waving to Michael in response. He was actually attempting to keep himself upright. "You've been here all this time?" He swallowed the lump in his throat, shocked he could be caught by surprise.

"Is this 'romantic' enough for you, Brian Kinney?" Michael smiled up at the shadowed form of Brian through the curtains.

"... god... damn... I knew I liked you for a reason..." Brian could feel his body react to the view of Michael, clothed, and him... not.

"Will you let me in?"

"I'll fuckin' leave the door unlocked, you little shit." Brian couldn't believe Michael had been slick enough to carry out his tease. He slowly rubbed a hand over his bare chest, not giving away the fact he was completely naked.

"Bedroom?" Michael pushed off the car, looking both ways before he crossed the street.

"I dunno. Get in here an' let's see what happens. I'm feelin' kind of adventurous." Brian stopped watching the street below when he saw Michael reach the front door, downstairs.

"Buzz me in..."

Brian was already at his security box, fully exposed, his thumb poised over the button. "Say the magic words..."

_**"Voulez-vous couchez avec moi ce soir?"** _ ( _-trans.-_ _**Would you like to go to bed with me?** _ _from LaBelle's LADY MARMALADE_ )

Brian was too lost in chuckling for awhile before he actually pressed the buzzer. "Holy shit, Mikey... I thought you'd never ask..."

Michael clicked off before Brian could say anything more, so Brian hung up. He turned to face the dead bolt on the door and unlocked it, after debugging the security system. Brian leaned on his brick wall, shaking his head at how ridiculous and exciting this seemed all at once. Then... he realized how close Michael was to reaching the front door, so he bolted across the floor to pick the bed sheet he dropped.

~*~*~

The door was left unlocked.

Michael had reached the top step once Brian had settled himself back on the windowsill, in the middle of "posing" in some sexy, seductive manner in the window. Michael rushed to the metal wall of the door, but paused with a sudden apprehension. He put up both hands, palms out, almost slamming hard on the metal, making an awkward knock with two hands.

"What... the hell... am I doing...?" Michael brought his hands down, making fists at his sides. He swiveled on one foot, pacing toward the elevator. He did know exactly what he was doing and it was unsettling him to not feel guilt. To not care what the outcome might be if certain people were to know he was actually here. One person in general, who used to show he cared, but didn't seem to anymore. Why didn't Michael feel more sad about that fact?

Not only because he was with Brian, but because of what he wanted to do to Brian and what he wanted done to him.

~*~*~

Brian perched right where he was, anticipating the noise of the rickety elevator, but he knew Michael was spry enough, when he was full of energy, to cover two flights of stairs in half the time of normal people. Lazy, lounge-y folks, like Brian, took the elevator to buy time, time to chill and time to wonder _"Am I really doing this?"._

Instead, once Brian heard the downstairs door slam shut and latch, there were hurried steps up and then... nothing. If Brian was quiet enough, he could nearly hear Michael trying to catch his breath at the door.

The door didn't open...

Brian's eyes grew wide. Crossing one arm over his stomach, he brought up his right hand to start biting nervously on his thumbnail. His brow furrowed with worry. He turned to stare down at the street to see if Michael had chickened out. His cigarette was still smoldering in the ashtray, so he snuffed it out, after a few quick puffs. He downed a second glass of bourbon, to instill courage. He tugged the sheet up his body, in his right fist, spreading the sheet over his feet instead of under, in case he had to move. He didn't want to trip unexpectedly, if he had to rush or run across the room.

Michael still hadn't walked through the door.

What... was going on on the other side of that door?

Brian stood up, preparing to wander over to open it himself, but he waited...

~*~*~

Michael wasn't scared. He wasn't backing out to return to a darker, emptier house to be even lonelier than he felt. He was going to walk up to that door, open it and demand a few things from Brian.

Nothing but sex, so nothing about permanence and commitment. Nothing that would chase Brian away, for good.

The desire to rush in was palpable, like he could "sense" Brian on the other side, lounging around somewhere... naked and waiting... arm bent behind his head... a sheet barely covering his bare flesh...

Michael never knew what he would walk in on with Brian or what to expect. Not even how he'd feel seeing Brian, until he saw him, face to face. Michael was beyond happy, if there existed such a word, he was feeling it pulsate through him. It wasn't right to feel this way, since the man he wanted right now wasn't his husband.

Michael hesitated because he didn't want this moment over before he started. Then he knew he'd have to go back to married life, never knowing anything, not even if he was good enough. Being with Brian always made him know exactly who and what he was... even when he felt rejected. He knew it was out of love and deep care, a concern for his welfare and sanity that could never be clearly explained.

Michael wasn't attempting to seek revenge on Ben. He knew that wasn't why he was doing this... with Brian. Somehow the world had planned it out, that this was his time. This was Michael's chance to make it or break it with Brian. There was nothing and nobody who could sway him now, not after coming this far... to this point.

Michael was simply amazed how right this moment felt and wondering why neither of them had done this sooner, if it was always going to feel this good to be together. He realized once he stepped inside the loft, closed the door and set the locks... the world and the people outside would cease to exist. Michael and Brian could believe what they had was real, both wanting one another and finally letting their guards down.

Closing his eyes and inhaling deeply, Michael pushed off the brick wall, heading toward the metal door. He brought up his right hand, catching the slight shaking. With determination to let go of his fears, Michael clasped the large handle and pulled to the right.

The familiar slide on the track could be heard echoing throughout the darkened, moon and street lamp lit loft space.

Michael had taken what Brian said to heart, figuring he'd head directly into the bedroom. All he had to do was set the dead bolt, push in the security code, then undress.

He began with his jacket...

~*~*~

... which slid slowly to the floor... then he worked on toeing off his Sketcher sneaker boots...

Brian sucked in a long breath, wishing he had covered his mouth, but it was too late. He knew what was happening. Michael was stripping on his way toward the bedroom. Brian could only remain hiding for so long before he had to stop Michael's progression. It would be too painful to watch completely... and not make one sound...

Brian's bodily reaction intensified, feeling Michael's presence in the room, the quickening of his heart, the way his skin felt flushed and heated. He knew watching Michael this way... not the undressing part, but having no idea anyone was looking at him... got Brian even hornier than he had been. He could almost imagine his long ago fantasy being played out, that Michael did every action... said every word for him... and him alone.

Michael had untucked his top shirt, unbuttoning from bottom hem to the top. There was a t-shirt on, underneath, as the short sleeve shirt slid off the muscular arms, pooling on the floor where Michael stood. Even the stark whiteness of the cotton, against Michael's bare skin, made him look dark and mysterious, the flesh highlighted in blues. Michael's hands crossed to reach for the bottom hem of the t-shirt, tugging the fabric slowly up his slim torso...

... and Brian couldn't stand this any longer...

"Do you trust me?!" Brian called out, stopping Michael's pursuit, dead in his tracks.

"Jesus! Christ!" Michael closed his lids, placing a hand on his chest. The material of the t-shirt fell back down, partway, leaving a sliver of pale flesh to peek at. "You fuckin' scared me!" He chuckled nervously, patting his chest so he could settle himself into calm.

"Don't..." Brian put up his hand, licking his lips as his eyes viewed the tightening, in-n-out movements of Michael's abdomen. "Keep your eyes closed." He bit down on his lips, trying to make sure he had a voice to speak with. "... do you...?"

"Do I?" Michael couldn't remember the question he'd been asked.

"... trust me?"

Michael allowed his arms to fall limply to his sides, the shirt adjusting itself again, meeting the waistline of his jeans. He chewed on the inside of his cheek to bar sarcasm. The air in the loft felt charged... different than usual. The reason he loved this loft so much was because not only did it represent the man Brian was, in class and stature, but it always managed to encapsulate some emotion he'd been feeling for the last few hours. And also... Brian's scent was everywhere...

"With my life..." Michael internalized the rest... _"... and with my heart..."_.

The problem with Brian was that he worried, just like Michael. Except he worried about who he was within the moment. Michael tended to worry about everything else, even Brian himself. When they were younger, Michael didn't understand the strange "attraction"... well, more like "gravitation"... he had with Brian. It wasn't until Michael hadn't been around him for a few days, then he knew. All Brian had to do was smile at him, hook an arm about his neck and drag him down the school hallway... and Michael knew everything.

Michael had realized Brian had this particular "life force" about him... an aura of wild, seductive energy. For Michael, it was always warm and comforting, like he was safe from harm. Rooms seemed less bright and cheery without Brian. And... right now... that energy was pounding through the air, making Michael actually feel Brian's own nervousness.

Shouldn't it be the other way around?

"Turn toward me..." Brian spoke on a low, sultry tone as he averted his head. He still could "feel" that Michael was looking at him, through closed lids. "... follow my voice, while keeping your eyes closed..."

Michael crossed his arms over his chest. "When did I advance so quickly to pleasure games?" He flexed his arms, not knowing how sculpted and finely formed his body looked to Brian. "What? Think I can forget the lay of your loft that suddenly?"

Brian stopped holding the sheet over himself, then grasped the sill behind him. "I could have dropped something on the floor..." He had to bite his tongue. "... or moved a chair..." He smirked as if Michael could see him.

"You?" Michael quirked up one eyebrow in curiosity. "Redecorating? Attempting to blow off steam?"

"Not exactly the type of 'blowing' I'm used to." Brian snapped back in a muttered tone.

"Why is it dark in here?" Michael began to walk one step at a time, avoiding every piece of furniture in his way.

"... 'cause your eyes are closed..." Brian teased, knowing what Michael was really asking.

"Har-har... no shit, Sherlock!" Michael was even deft at knowing the things that he'd meet along the way, using them to guide him toward Brian's voice. "No, before... when I walked in..." The funny-weirdness became that Michael's head never turned away from Brian's face, even though his eyes were shut.

"I like the dark... matches my moods..." Brian was amazed at how swiftly Michael could move, even with the new furniture and the rug beneath his socked feet. He watched closely with a trained eye, in case Michael tripped and fell.

Michael paused, body stiffening, arms flat to his sides. "Did something happen today? Vic... did he...?"

Brian raised his eyes to Michael's face, swallowing hard. "No." He could actually read the genuine concern on Michael's features, the way his hand always reacted to wanting to reach out and touch Brian. "Completely gone, like we thought."

Michael smirked, knowing Brian was probably looking directly at him. "Ma has my old Ouija board... if you wanna summon his spirit cheaply." He could sense he was gaining ground toward Brian, the voice was softer but closer.

"No, but thanks." Brian smiled and huffed out a chuckle. He didn't want Michael to know he could melt so easily.

  
Michael walked around a strait back chair, leaning weakly on its arm. "We could try talkin' to Mysterious Marilyn. She could..."

"Uhm... big fat N-O. I've got better things to do with my time."

"Like?" Michael raised a lone eyebrow in wonder.

"Spending it with you." Brian didn't look up, his eyes staring at the floor.

"Awww..." Michael used the chair to balance himself again, ready to move ahead further to reach Brian. He knew he was nearly there. "... that almost sounds..."

"I missed you." Brian blurted the words without another thought. Normally, he'd take thirty minutes to beat around the bush.

"Don't sound so ecstatic." Michael shrugged one shoulder. "You, uh... make it seem like a bad thing..."

Brian finally stood, his hands twisting the sheet around his wrists. "It's not. It's only been a day... and already..." He took his own steps, Michael unaware.

"What?"

"... already I know it's not enough..."

"... Brian..." Michael finally released the breath he'd been holding.

"Hear me out."

"Can I open...?" Michael gestured to his eyes with one sweep of a hand.

"No... I need you to listen. You don't need to see my face..." Brian walked a few paces further, his shadow covering Michael. "... or watch my mouth move..."

"... or your naked body..." Michael quirked one side of his mouth up, hooking his thumbs in the back pocket of his jeans. He wasn't aware he'd pulled them taut across his groin, showing how hard he was becoming... or was Michael very aware?

Brian licked his dry lips, looking down at the hips jutting at him. "Mikey... you peeked..."

"How many years have we been sleeping together... platonically? I know you..." Michael heard Brian clear his throat and go silent. "... sorry... you were saying..."

"Something's happening." Brian took two steps toward Michael, able to catch each inhale of breath through his lungs, watching the chest rise and fall. "Something's changing... and it's not going the way I thought it would..."

Michael sighed, bowing his head, eyes still closed, knowing rejection... or worse, demands... would soon follow. "... I'm sorry..." He put a hand to his brow, shading his face.

"For what?" Brian kept his eyes on Michael's face, his body held straight, trying not to show weakness.

"Putting you in this position..." Michael shook his head, wiping his hand across his hairline. "... I know you've never..."

Brian bowed his head, face only inches away from Michael. "Even though it's where I want to be?"

"Huh?" Michael lifted his body upright, shoulders stiff.

"... I want this... with you..." Brian could see that Michael was slowing coming back to Earth, a slow quivering smile growing on his lips. "... I want... jesus..." He held out his own hands, spread out on either side of Michael.

  
They were almost touching. "... my hands are fuckin' shaking..."

Michael reached out to grab both of Brian's hands, starting at the wrists, tugging him closer. They banged chests. He kept his head bowed, tucked under Brian's chin, wanting to burrow, deeply... but also wanting to beat the shit out of Brian for scaring him.

Brian was giggling under his breath, watching Michael avert his head, unable to look directly at him. He hadn't even opened his eyes yet. "I'm a wreck." He whispered the words into Michael's ear, nudging his face into Michael's hair.

"You're my wreck." Michael sent his arms up and around Brian's neck. He sighed when he felt Brian's arms come around his waist, locking at his backside. He sank into Brian's cocoon of warm sheet and naked body.

"Worse than wanting... is knowing how much I'm beginning to need you, Michael..." Brian tightened one of his hands into the back of Michael's head, threading through the dark locks.

"Call me." Michael mumbled against Brian's skin, kissing a spot, then resting his cheek down. "I'll come running."

Brian chuckled, then pressed his lips into Michael's temple. "Your husband won't mind?"

"You shouldn't worry about him so much."

"I'm not here to destroy your marriage."

"I know you aren't and neither am I. If anybody 'destroys' what I have... it will be the two people involved who are to blame... not you..." Michael brought up one of his hands, tucking it under his cheek, to lay flat on Brian's chest. "I take full responsibility for all my actions."

"I'm changing, Michael... I can feel it." Brian smiled against the brow near his lips. "Right here..." He placed Michael's hand over his lower abdomen. "... and here..." Then he brought that hand up to caress over his left breast. "... you're becoming a much worse addiction than I've ever had to kick..."

Michael pushed off, finally lifting his head to look at Brian, but not opening his eyes. He reached up to slide his hand along the side of Brian's face, into his hair, coming around to rest on the supple neck and throat. "I'm glad you said that... I thought..."

Brian picked up Michael's drooping chin. He turned the sweet features to face some light, seeing the tears glistening on dark lashes. "... Michael..."

"Yes..." Michael bunched his hand in a fist and beat softly against Brian's chest. "... I'm crying, jerk..." He wiped under his eyes, bumping Brian's hands as they tried to swipe the same patch of skin. "Happy tears... I promise..."

"Did I...?" Brian swallowed the lump in his throat, not sure he could speak anymore.

"No... I did. With my stupid fears, again." Michael covered his eyes to block them from Brian's sight. "I'll stop, I swear."

"Don't..." Brian pet the side of Michael's face with one knuckle. "... you're sexier when you're wet..." He quietly "umph-ed" when Michael elbowed him in the gut. "... and you glow. Did you know that? In the dark... you actually glow..."

Michael chuckled, shaking his head and burying his face in Brian's chest, using the sheet to wipe at his cheeks. "Boy... you're just throwing out the compliments, left and right."

"If I didn't like them on you... would I do something like this...?" Brian swooped in and stole a kiss from Michael, hard on the lips, making him secure his arms around his neck again. He pressed Michael close, wanting him to feel his hardness through the rough denim material. The patch of coarse pubic hair lightly brushed over Michael's pelvic bone as the waistline of the jeans sagged. Brian turned his head to sink deeper, tongue coming out to play with Michael's. He knew they were close to some type of copulation, how far they would go would be up to Michael. Brian drew backward, feather light pressure and an inch away from Michael's mouth. He swept nose tips, then leaned against Michael's cheek. "... I got in bed... and I couldn't sleep... there's still this empty space that can only be filled by you..."

Michael pushed his brow along Brian's jaw and chin. "I don't know if I'll be able to sleep in my own bed ever again."

"Turn around." Brian tenderly commanded in Michael's ear, placing his hands on Michael's shoulder joints.

"... but I'm already..." Michael was sweeping his hands under the sheet to catch Brian around the waist.

"Do as I say..." Brian whispered the words against Michael's lips and near the outline of puffy flesh. "... please..."

"When I do... can I open my eyes?"

 

**~*~TBC...**   



	4. Chapter 4

"That was the plan."

Michael allowed Brian to feel like he was making him turn, keeping his hands over Brian's on his shoulders. He opened his eyes, grinning from ear to ear at what he could see, even in the dark. "How long before you came out here to sleep?" He used his head to gesture toward the sofa, which was where Michael had ended up at his own house. He let his body fall backward, knowing Brian's arms were open wide for him.

Brian enveloped Michael inside the blanket, drawing him to his chest, leaning his head on the side of Michael's hair. "Barely forty-five minutes in that fuckin' bed... and it's not the same..." He pulled backward to press a kiss to Michael's shoulder, moving toward his nape. "... never will be the same. You've ruined it for me... for other men..."

"Poor assholes. All of you." Michael pretended to cackle and rub his hands together as if he'd planned this all along.

Brian buried his face in Michael's hair, inhaling deeply. "If I'm not careful... you'll ruin me, too..."

Michael looked over his shoulder at Brian. "Am I really that bad?"

"You were never good to begin with." Brian murmured against Michael's neck. "That's your power." He slowly pulled the t-shirt up Michael's torso and yanked the fabric over the dark head. He threw the material in the air, not caring where it fell. He re-clasped Michael to his naked chest, loving the feel of the warm skin against his own. The sensation shocked him for a second, but then he recovered. He could only imagine what it'd feel like to have Michael entirely undressed and wrapped around him. "I thought about you all damn day."

"Yeah?" Michael hooked his hands over Brian's forearms across his chest. "Thought what?"

"What a fool I've been... to not do this sooner, with you."

"I'll take some of that foolishness." Michael flipped to lay against Brian, on his right side. "We've come close, but..."

"... I scared you away..."

"Uhm... yes... and no..."

"Okay..." Brian blinked away his shock. "What does that mean?"

Michael turned completely to face Brian, tucking his right arm under and around Brian's left side, under the sheet. "Those fours years into our friendship, I figured I had a shot. I couldn't help but feel I was it for you. I had a good chance. We could've been... I don't know..." He shrugged one shoulder, gazing up at Brian as he looked down. "... more..."

Brian swung an arm around Michael's neck and let it dangle down his left shoulder. "Then I got excited about leaving... going to college..." He leaned against Michael's head, realizing how stupid he'd been.

"I wanted that for you, so badly." Michael brought up his right hand to soothe over Brian's chest. "You needed a way out of that house... that life that dragged you down..." He looked away for a bit, because this was hardest to admit. "... and maybe I thought..."

Brian nodded his head, knowing exactly what Michael meant to say. "... you thought I was leaving you, because you were a part of that life I had here..."

"You were happy. I couldn't deny you the right to see true happiness."

"It might have been a dream fulfilled..." Brian walked them backward, so he could sit them on the windowsill. Michael took a position on Brian's lap. "... but it never made me truly happy." He rested his chin on Michael's shoulder. "... not without you."

Michael swiveled his head to glance down at Brian. "Wanna know something truly insane?"

Brian smiled in a cheesy, model-like way. "Yes, please."

Michael pushed gently at Brian's face, chuckling. "If you had said that to me... say, four or five years ago, I never would have really understood what you meant."

"And now?" Brian grew serious, watching Michael pick up his hand and thread their fingers together, palm to palm.

"You once asked me, when I told you about Ben's proposal, if marriage and a family was what I always wanted. Like some fairy tale wish."

"And you said... it wasn't something you considered plausible for us -- _gay men_ \-- because it just wasn't... The Norm." Brian gave a tiny grin from Michael's stunned look at how much of those words he recalled. "... or that we had the 'right' to have wishes and dreams, like straight people."

Michael brought his right arm up and out to lock around Brian's neck, keeping his left hand clasped to Brian's right. "Did you think I meant that had been my dream to fulfill? Like college was for you? Except..." He let the fingers of his right hand filter through the back of Brian's head, playing at his nape. "... I wanted a way out of the stereotypical homosexual lifestyle?"

"Ben made you happy..." Brian was either mesmerized by their hands together or... he couldn't really look directly at Michael as he talked. "... and if Ben loved you... wanted to marry you and give you the life you wanted... and richly deserved, who was I to..."

Michael bent his head, nudging Brian to lift upward... and then kissed him soundly on the lips. They breathed together for awhile. "You ignorant, dumbass!"

Brian couldn't not laugh. It wasn't what he expected Michael to say. "What... the fuck... was that for?"

"The kiss?"

"The name calling."

Michael smirked, meshing his forehead with Brian's. "Weird how we know how to communicate in so many intricate ways, except the most important ones. We sure know when to royally fuck up, don't we?"

Brian furrowed his brow in confusion. "Your dream wasn't matrimony and wedded bliss?"

Michael shook his head as he calmly stated Brian's truth. "And your dream wasn't about college. You'd have done anything to escape. Even throw away a fully paid four-year scholarship to Carnegie?" He lifted one eyebrow, expecting an answer soon.

Brian opened his mouth, then closed it. "I did ask you to run away to New York with me." He remembered that time clearly, how heartbroken he'd been Michael hadn't seriously taken his offer, then how it became something he asked Michael almost annually, like a private tease between them only they knew.

"... and I talked you back in..."

"When you were telling me Ben proposed, did you expect me to...?"

Michael nodded his head, watching Brian close his eyes. "... to which you promptly talked me into accepting. In your own roundabout way. "

"Where's a dunce cap and a proper corner when you need one?" Brian looked at Michael under his lashes, ashamed.

"Do you think I failed you?"

Brian shook his head in disagreement. "No. I became a success. I got out. I graduated." He pulled Michael closer to his chest. "Do you think I failed you?"

Michael wrapped both of his arms about Brian's body, rubbing his back. "No. I became the person I was meant to be. I've lived. I've succeeded in many different ways. I know who I am and what I want." He tucked his head into Brian's hair, then nuzzled his throat.

"... me..." Brian stated the fact so softly, it was barely flittering in the air.

Michael heard it, against his skin. "My dreams were always with you... however I could get you." He pulled back, hands cupping the sides of Brian's head. "I never realized it was something I could handle."

"Until now?" Brian smiled as Michael nodded and then they shared a shy smile together. "Me, either. I wanted you with me, wherever. It's why I was willing not to go. I couldn't stand knowing you'd be stuck here, in The Pitts, for the rest of your life."

"And now?" Michael played at the back of Brian's ears, twisting through his hair.

"I can't seem to get unstuck."

"Is New York City ever going to be a goal... or a dream for you?" Michael had to ask. Not because Justin could be there, but because Brian could leave him at anytime.

Brian didn't shake or nod his head in response. He simply raised his hazel eyes and gazed intently into Michael's brown ones. "Would you leave all that you have here and join me?" He locked his arms secure about Michael's frame, not even waiting for an answer of "yes" or "no". "... because I'm not making one more move to leave without you..."

Michael pecked those lips, then drew backward. "Brian..." He bit his bottom lip in deep thought.

"Mmm..."

"I've got some bad news... could probably become terrible news..."

"What?" Brian wasn't sure he knew what Michael was trying to say.

"They're right, you know. Every single fuckin' one of them." Michael brushed back Brian's bangs, grabbing the sides of his head. He couldn't take the worry brewing behind Brian's eyes. "We've already been acting like a married couple all these years, just..."

"... without the proposal... the rings... the ceremony... the vows... the Church... God, Man and Preacher... and the sex..."

"Dickhead." Michael grumbled as he began to pull off his wedding ring.

"Whoa! Whoa!" Brian put out a hand to ward off anything striking him down for doing "evil, naughty" things. "What are you doing?"

"Play along with me." Michael had the ring between index finger and thumb of his left hand. "I promise it won't bite... or cut off circulation."

Brian tried to keep his right hand behind his back, hidden from Michael. "Michael... that's your ring... from Ben... it's not gonna..." He chuckled deeply as it felt like Michael was trying to tickle him into submission.

Michael was too swift for Brian. They watched the ring slide perfectly in its place.

"Well... how do you feel?" Michael put the back of his hand over Brian's brow. "Abdominal pain? Nausea? Dizzy? Think you might faint?"

Brian looked over his shoulder out the clear glass of the window. "Probably not a good idea for me to be here... out in the open... where God can see me... lightning could strike..."

"We could..." Michael bent his head to nudge Brian's cheek, near his ear. "... take this to the bedroom..."

Brian blanked out on the kinky image. He couldn't get the sight of the ring on his finger out of his head. "I might need you sooner. It's a long way over."

"You're shy?" Michael's hand trailed down Brian's chest, to find a way under the sheet.

"My cock is hard. Not really in a strolling mood."

"You're hard?!" Michael seemed completely stunned by that fact. Not like he wasn't utterly dumbstruck, but he was used to being this way around Brian. "All we've done is talk."

"Why is that so odd? Have you seen the way you look these days?"

"But it was good old fashion 'pillow talk'. We've done it for years. It's not supposed to..."

"... and your point is...?" Brian looked about the darkened loft as if Michael had screamed it for everyone to hear. Brian Kinney had a "woody" for Michael Novotny.

"Oh... My Gawd!!" Michael put a hand to his mouth in shock as he realized something monumental.

"What?"

"Has this..." Michael's hand swept over Brian's groin area. "... always happened when we talked?"

"No." Brian hoped Michael believed him. "Not all the time." He could only recall once or twice, maybe. "But... when you touch me... or kiss me... the way you smell and look... the way you rub your jeans against me... do not expect me to not react accordingly." He stressed that point. "I am only one man... one human being... not some super human, cold-hearted, distant reptilian-like jackass..."

"Thank god for small favors." Michael sculpted his hands under Brian's head and brought his lips up to kiss... in a not-so friendly way.

Brian hooked his hand about Michael's backside, bringing him to sit, straddled over his lap. Michael almost had him pinned to the window.

They'd have to move sometime, but this felt nice... coolness at his back and warmth all over him... Brian was in pure heaven... he loved the way Michael smiled mischievously down at him the moist, twinkle to his near-black eyes.

God... if only this could be his days from now until forever... if only dreams like that could come true...

 

_**~*~** _

_**Five days later... inside Patient Kinney Brian A.'s hospital room...** _

**__**   
The voices weren't the same, nor were the body warmths. Hands were cool, some rough. They spoke in spurts, too many questions, not enough right answers. There was tension in the room, there was confusion. There were a few random eager voices, ones who had a genuine awe of who they were actually looking at.

The Man from the newspaper articles. The "real-life" hero.

But for the most part, this was a mobile, sterile classroom, the patient was merely their "dissected frog" under the microscope.

Notes were taken as pens clicked and pencils were sharpened, they were all curious to this outcome.

The patient's doctor was encouraged, but his students didn't feel much progress had been made.

They knew the patient was alive, his vitals proved it. He just refused to show "life". They left the room after barely twenty-five minutes of discussion. The case would be further explored in a classroom setting, with minimal contact outside, in this same room.

He felt the stale breeze once they all exited. The cool, central air pelting his body. He couldn't react to them, they didn't feel emotionally attached. He felt almost nothing while they were here, occupying his space.

He liked it better at night. The warmth and light, even in the darkness and shadows. His labored breathing became even and calm, his heart slowing down to almost nil. He had been awake, but barely aware of what was going on around him. Didn't seem worthy the pain to wake up.

He expected that familiar scent to return soon, the radiating heat to take over his body. The voice that entered his head even in sleep. He wanted those hands over his face, caressing. Those soft lips kissing and touching him with such tender care and love.

His right hand twitched, knowing the empty space should be filled. He brought his hand up, over his stomach and stopped. His five fingers splayed in a restful position. This was enough motion for now, he'd sleep for awhile and awake when the time was right.

He hoped he didn't have to wait too long, felt like time sped by too fast already... waiting on him...

~*~*~  
 _ **Same five days later... outside Patient Kinney, Brian A.'s hospital room...**_

  
Emmett walked through the ICU/CCU double doors like he strolled through any place he chose to make an appearance at. He carried his murse (man-purse) over one shoulder and a potted plant in the crook of his left arm. Didn't matter what occasion he was showing up to, he always had a smile to sparkle and dazzle. Today was no different for him. He'd done his crying in private, shed his sorrows in plenty of pints of mocha chip and toffee chocolate drizzle banana bonanza.

The staff knew him, because he was the only other family member of Patient Kinney who dared to show their face. They'd been ordered to keep any and all people away who were not on Mr. Novotny's specified list of visitors. In fact, it was only four people on the piece of paper and two of them were children. Not even phone calls into the room were allowed. Mr. Novotny told the nurses that all calls would be going out and so far not one soul had seen him dial a single number. There wasn't even a phone at Patient Kinney's bedside.

A curious nurse peeked her head over the nurses' station counter, immediately perking up at the smile coming her way. Emmett was a familiar face she'd seen floating about the last several days. She nodded her head toward him as he promptly placed the potted plant on the corner of the counter top.

"For you and the rest of the girls, sweetie." Emmett tried to fluff out the drooping plant that hadn't seen sun in a few days. It was supposed to be a gift from some anonymous well-wisher, but Michael didn't want anything inside Brian's room. At least nothing that wasn't heartfelt and genuine. Even though Emmett had grown tired of the drill sergeant attitude Michael had adapted since Brian's admittance to the hospital, he really did understand why Michael wanted to keep everyone away, at a distance.

The same folks who boo-hooed and poo-poo-ed Brian's role in Michael's life were trying to make up for those millions of times they said one bad thing about him... or a thousand, give or take. Everyone wanted good karma upon death, theirs or Brian's, whichever came first.

Emmett could say he was in that group, but of late, he was the only one who knew anything about what was happening with Ben and Michael. And it seemed as if married life wasn't all it was cracked up to be. He was kind of sad, yet relieved at the same time. He'd been wondering about those few times he thought he'd seen some hefty hunk who looked like Ben running around Babylon, Woody's or strolling Liberty Avenue. Even more cautious and flabbergasted to not see Michael in tow or anywhere at all. And Emmett knew walking up to Ben or the possible Ben look-a-like would have made for an awkward introduction and conversation. Best to simply wait it out and let Michael come to him. They were best friends... or so he thought.

Emmett turned from the nurses' station to face the area set up for family members to sit outside the rooms, when things got too emotional and, possibly, unbearable. He was a bit shocked to see Michael there, not in Brian's designated room. As he walked by Room 1043, the only person in the room was Brian and his day shift nurse taking his two hour vitals. He furrowed his brow in concern. What had happened to make Michael leave the room? He strutted across the tiled floor, his loafers making quite a racket, but he didn't care. He reached the carpet portion and paused, hand looped around the strap of his bag, hand cupped at the back of his hip.

"Michael..." Emmett called out, taking a look at how Michael was curled in, then up and over two chairs, somehow managing to fall asleep. He paced over, with a hand outstretched to shake Michael's shoulder. "Michael... sweetie..." He plopped himself down in the seat near Michael's tucked feet. He noticed the long leather jacket Michael was using as his blanket wasn't familiar, must be new or... someone else's. It didn't look like something Michael would buy for himself. He put out his hand to smooth over Michael's bent knees. "Hey, sleepyhead..."

Michael sputtered awake, opening his eyes halfway. "Heyyyyy, Em..." He stretched under the warmth of the plaid lining, peeking from underneath the collar of the leather jacket. It was the last thing Brian wore, the very last moment Michael saw him the night they first had sex. Leather was a great texture and held scents all too well, especially Brian's cologne. Plus, it reminded Michael of that night, a time he never wanted to forget and it fit Michael's small frame like a blanket. He sat up further in the chair, moving to plant his butt correctly in the seat and his feet flat to the floor. He swiped a hand over his face, then around his neck, working kinks out. "Is everything...?" His eyes immediately went to look over his shoulder toward Brian's room. He caught the nurse exiting, closing the door behind her. She gave Michael a small private wave to show him he could come back in, that Brian was alone again.

"Everything is fine... on my end..." Emmett viewed the exchange, then jumped into the other seat, right next to Michael, placing his bag in the chair he left. "Though you have ruffled a few feathers around town in our circle." He put a gentle hand to Michael's hunched back. "How are you... how's Brian...?" It was about the only thing Michael would talk about.

"We're both the same." Michael soothed a hand over his chin and jaw.

"When are you going to leave here and get a good night's rest?"

"I tried that."

Emmett was perplexed, not knowing Michael had left even for five minutes, let alone actually left the hospital completely. "When?" He shook his head in disbelief.

"A few nights back." Michael coughed into his hand, scratching at his stubble. "I left... Brian spiked a temp..." He closed his eyes, leaning over to grip the edge of the seat he was on. "... infection had set, somewhere in his body..." He chuckled slightly to himself, quirking up one side of his mouth. "I knew then... how much he really depends on me... even when he's unconscious... he's been better ever since." He shut up, not sure he wanted to go into that nightmarish night again. And... did Emmett really care? "I can't leave the hospital... ever... I'm not taking that chance again."

"Is that why there's a bed-looking chair in the room?" Emmett didn't know whether to be offended or pleased by Michael's sudden need to attend to Brian. He stared at the floor, tucking his hands in between his thighs.

"Yeah." Michael nodded his head.

"And... why aren't you in it?" Emmett didn't mean to sound catty, but if Michael wasn't careful he'd wear himself down and then who would be there to care for Brian?

"Doctor was doing rounds... had a couple of students with him. I got out of their way." Michael didn't even care what tone of voice Emmett used to speak to him. Every word sounded like a reprimand or an insinuation that Michael was avoiding his "real" life, with Ben... and the whole outside world.

"Ahhhh... and being sleep deprived caused you to catch some 'Zs' wherever you could?"

Michael averted his head, shut his eyes and shook his head. He knew he'd put a lot on Emmett's shoulders to bear while he was with Brian, but Emmett didn't know Brian like he did. This was all for the best. He didn't care how cruel he made himself appear. "Is there some reason why you came?"

"Yes..." Emmett sat back in a huff, crossing one leg over a knee, swinging his foot in annoyance. "...to see if anything changed. And... to try, again, to see if you'd let Ted or I take over for a little bit. Not a whole day, just four or five hours. You can go home, shower, sleep and pack a bag or something."

Michael sat back, as well, arm bent on the chair arm as he bit at his thumb, like Brian would do. "I do fine. Brian's room is private. There's a shower, a sink and a toilet. I get what sleep I can in the reclining sleeper chair. I don't need anything else." He settled his left arm on the other arm rest.

Emmett placed his hand over Michael's on the arm rest they shared and squeezed. "I do understand, sweetie. Believe me... I'm holdin' my tongue because we all grieve differently, but..." He shook his head, closing his eyes and leaning his head back on the wall. He bit his tongue, literally, from going on. "... yeah... looks mighty comfortable in there. Like a little home, for you two. I suppose... watching Brian, in that big ole bed, hooked up to all that tubing and wiring, unconscious for almost a whole week... really helps you to fall asleep better."

Michael yanked his hand back, resting it by his side, under the leather jacket. "Nothing you say will tear me away from him."

"I know." Emmett groaned out on an eye roll, then folded his hands over his chest.

"I'm not leaving his side." Michael got prepared to stand, gathering things in his hands to rise to his feet.

Emmett nodded his head, pursing his lips. "Right... until Jenny arrives..."

"Wha-?"

"In another week, remember? Melanie will bring Jenny down, from Toronto."

"Yeah, jesus... I forgot." Michael sat hunched, hand covering his face in desperation. "... fuck...!"

Emmett sat upright, too, rubbing Michael's arched back. "Hey... hey... it's okay. This doesn't make you a bad father."

Michael lifted his torso up, eyes staring into the carpet, a slight smile on his face. "We talked about it... Jenny coming back..." His solemn brown eyes moved to Emmett's face. "... he wanted to spend time with her... just her... without..." He had to look away or shed tears. He simply shut his eyes and deep breathed through his nostrils. "Is Lindsay still considering coming down, too? With Gus?"

"Yes. Will the 'visitation' be lifted by then?"

Michael pushed out of the chair, standing over his friend's stunned face. "I'm not being cruel on purpose. I know Brian... I know he wouldn't want anyone around him, like this. You know how private he is... how he can't stand looking vulnerable."

"Human, you mean."

"Weak... and helpless." Michael rolled Brian's jacket over his arm and tucked it to his chest. "I can't expose him that way to anyone. I'm even taking a risk with you."

Emmett kept his mouth shut after that remark. "You were trying to tell me something about you two, the day of the accident. I've not been able to sit down and really talk... with you... about what you started to say."

Michael opened his mouth, then shut it. "... and I'm not getting into it right this second."

"Why?" Emmett didn't understand why Michael was treating him this way, as if he'd done some wrong toward Brian.

"Because, in truth, it's nobody's business what happened or what may have happened." Michael shook his head, looking toward Brian's room. He was feeling how much better he'd be right now, locking himself inside and never coming out. The world seemed more cruel to him, without Brian nearby. "I never should have told you anything."

"Don't say that. I'm your best friend." Emmett wasn't liking the look that crossed Michael's features. "Not like Brian, of course, but we're close..." He let the comment slide on by, not expecting a response. "Well... we used to not keep secrets from each other."

"I'm not doing this to him... for anyone's benefit..." Michael put out a hand for Emmett to stop talking.

"What do you mean?"

"Whatever has gone on between Brian and I... is ours. I won't say anything more until he's awake and aware."

Emmett squinted his eyes, never realizing, until this moment, what was really going on. "You two got close. Closer than you've ever been before."

"Stop. Now." Michael turned his back and walked a few steps away.

Emmett stood, hooking his bag back over his shoulder, knowing it was time for him to leave. "It's okay. I'm speculating, but I know you, Michael. If things changed between you boys, why would things be different? You were always this way with him, but subtle. I guess we deserve it, for taking it all for granted."

"Em... please... don't..."

Emmett stood up and walked toward Michael, a few feet behind him. "Except you are different. You can't help it. That's been your strength... Brian's weakness..."

Michael spoke over his shoulder, unable to turn around and face Emmett. "I've done hundreds of tricks to stop him..." He couldn't actually say the word he wanted to, that would reveal too much. "I've caught him plenty of times, during the act of 'letting go'... of this life..."

Emmett closed his eyes, not needing the actual word. There wasn't one gay man he knew who hadn't tried to end his life, knowing there was always something better on the other side. A permanent happiness. Emmett tucked his hands inside his coat pockets. "We always thought it was Brian saving you... all this time, it was really the other way around."

Michael turned a little bit to face Emmett, only from the side. "... it's actually mutual..."

Emmett paced further, near to Michael's arm. His face shadowed Michael's head, their discussion almost a whisper between them. "Only this time... like the time before, it's up to Brian to decide."

Michael raised watery eyes to Emmett's face, watching him cover his quivering mouth. He put a hand of comfort on Emmett's sleeve and gripped tight, like a lifeline. "I just... I wanna know what he's thinking... I always know... but I can't..."

Emmett brought his hand down to cover Michael's, a silent plea of forgiveness given both ways. "Maybe..., honey..." He reached out to cup Michael's cheek. "... you already do know..."

"What are you saying?" Michael allowed Emmett to wipe away his tears, almost not feeling the touch. He still felt so cold.

"What does your heart tell you?"

"... to hold on... never let go..."

Emmett used the back of his hand to caress lightly along Michael's face. "I guarantee you... that's exactly what he's feeling..."

Michael smirked, blinking away the moisture from his lashes. "How do you know?" He used the heel of his hands to swipe at his face.

"Please..." Emmett swallowed nervously, knowing this was his one shot to make it up to Michael. "... you're not the only soul who knows who the real Brian Kinney is. Go back in that room. Be with him... talk with him as much as you can. Always let him know how you really feel. His body might be laying there unmoving, but his mind is fully aware and still going strong..." He cupped both hands around Michael's face.

Michael had to smile, he couldn't help the thought that came to his head, just now. "He's Brian-Fuckin'-Kinney."

Emmett smirked, planting a sweet kiss to Michael's nose tip, then laying his brow on Michael's. "Exactly my point."

Michael reached up to latch onto Emmett's wrists, getting lost in the moment of warm human contact. He'd consider lifting the visitor ban in another week. He just couldn't do it now... not until he knew or was more confident that Brian was fully out of the woods and closer to home.

**~*~TBC...**


	5. Chapter 5

~*~  **FLASHBACK** ~*~  
_ **Kinnetik offices... The Call...** _   
**Brian Kinney** \- _trying to work... waiting for his phone to ring..._   
**Michael Novotny** \- _avoiding work... avoiding calling Brian...  
_   
Brian attempted to work on the storyboards for one of his older clients, but when he looked at them he kept envisioning the past, which would bring up Michael. So he'd try to think of something more recent, which would then conjure up Michael again because not only did they spend time together in bed, they often moved to the couch and revisited their youth with DVDs of their favorite movies or got stuck watching new television shows comparing them to the crap they liked way back in the day. Brian chuckled, sniffling out through his nostrils and realizing how normal he was looking. He glanced out his glass door, seeing no one had caught him.

He adjusted his tie, then his coat and fell back in his chair. This was no use being here today, he couldn't seem to get Michael out of his head. He couldn't even hear other people talking without thinking Michael had said something similar or some funny anecdote he'd told to make Brian hysterically fall over with laughter. He snickered again, discovering he never knew how tight his abs could feel around Michael nearly 24/7. Plus, Michael usually gave him a rougher workout in the bedroom than the equipment at the gym. He was stunned to know he was actually exhausted some nights, much different than with other less interesting nameless faces.

He reached for his Blackberry, flipping it over to see if he'd gotten a call or a text he might have missed by accidentally shutting off his phone. Empty. So he picked up the handset on his desk phone, dialing out to Cynthia.

"Any messages?" Brian used the same tone as he had the dozen or so other times he'd already done this one maneuver, making this time seem like the first.

"No... Michael hasn't called." Cynthia furrowed her brow, looking into Brian's office. She wasn't sure his head was screwed on right today. "It's barely noon and you've pushed back every single meeting until tomorrow. Every time you ring me, you ask me the same question." She gave a huge sigh of aggravation. She never should have come in, she would've been more productive with a day off. "What else am I supposed to assume?"

"All you had to do was say... 'yes' or 'no', then hang up." Brian bit back in retort, with a curt tone.

Since she'd already said one of those choices, Cynthia slammed the phone down.

Brian wasn't really ticked off, he was actually grinning in admiration as he hung up the extension. He loved Cynthia's ability to be a quick learner and to be probably one of the most loyal, trustworthy employees who he could almost call a "friend". Except she was female and... not Michael.

Ted strolled up to Brian's glass door and pushed his way in, without thinking first or looking Cynthia's way as she tried to stop him before entering the Lion's Den. "Brian..." He was wandering in, oblivious, reading an open file folder in his hand. "... those quarterly gross earnings for Sherlot Enterprises need to be..."

Brian's Blackberry began to vibrate, quite loudly, on his glass desktop. He didn't immediately answer, allowing it to ring as he stared at the thing, itself. He wondered if Michael was on the other end. He could feel Ted's eyes on him, waiting and watching, but he didn't want Schmidt to think that Brian Kinney waited with baited breath for anything or anyone.

Ted gestured toward Brian's phone as it jiggled. He closed the file, holding the thickness to his chest. "What's wrong? Another stalker?" He teased, with a snicker, but didn't get anything... not even a hard glare back from Brian or an over-the-shoulder witty remark. "You gonna get that?" He almost went for the phone himself, afraid the glass would crack and shatter.

Brian put up a hand to silence Ted, then pointed the index finger in the direction he'd like Ted to head toward. "Out!"

Ted closed and rolled his eyes, swiveled on his feet and muttered swear words on his way out. He was kind enough to shut Brian's door as he exited. He stopped by Cynthia's desk to have a small chat, since Brian wasn't really in a "working" mood this morning.

Brian picked up his cell, pushing the Send button, twisting his chair around for extra privacy. "Where the hell... have you been?"

"And 'Good Morning' to you, too." Michael spoke with a voice that held no malice or attitude. He already knew Brian wouldn't be too pleased with him once he called.

"It's almost afternoon." Brian checked his watch for verification. "Where are you?"

"I'm great, actually. Thanks for asking. How are you?"

"..."

Michael knew silence wasn't the best response to sound tickled to hear. He halted his little chuckle. "I'm sorry. I know I left you this morning in a rush, without saying goodbye..."

"I told you I was having an early meeting, but it wasn't meant to kick you out before then. You didn't wake me... or leave me a handwritten note or a text... nothing... just to tell me what you were doing... all day..." Brian closed his eyes, wiping a hand down his face. Did he really sound like a possessive jackass boyfriend? If he did, he might as well do the whole show. "... not fun to wake up alone when you never said anything... I didn't know if you were hurt... held hostage at the bank, with a knife to your throat... or dead, laying in a ditch somewhere off the highway..."

Michael bit the inside of his cheek. This was too adorable to listen to... Brian... nagging him about “morning after” protocol. "Well, surprise... I'm not. I had some thinking to do."

"You had to run away to do it?" Brian threw his hand up in annoyance. He didn't feel like he was getting a straight answer. "You wouldn't even answer your phone."

"Yeah... I got all seven of your messages..."

"Ingrate..."

"Bully..."

"I said I was sorry. I just..." Michael sighed heavily, relaxing with his arms crossed over his chest. "... I couldn't think..." He tried to think of what he wanted to say without offending Brian. "... I had to... I don't know... get perspective, away from distractions..."

Brian sat forward in his chair, prepared to knock some senseless heads together. "Ben... he didn't...?" He knew Ben's steroid episode was non-existent, or so they all believed. Brian never even imagined he could put Michael in some kind of physical danger with Ben, but anything was possible.

Ben was back to working out, doing strange things to his relationship with Michael and the odd way he was nonchalant about stepping out, late at night, for no reason. Reasons Ben couldn't explain to Michael, face to face.

"No. Not a clue." Michael said with a bland tone, looking off into the distance. "He wasn't even home when I got back in. I had already showered, made myself some breakfast when he finally strolled in. He told me he slept at his office."

"Do you believe him?"

"Is that really important? Because I'm beginning to think he doesn't even care if I am cheating."

Brian snickered in a half-assed way, not really finding it funny. "He would if he knew it was me."

"Brian..." Michael paused, staring down at his shoe tips. "... this is a hefty decision to make. Once this happens... once we let it happen... there's no going back for us. No sense of normalcy." He cleared his throat, sniffling and using his sleeve to wipe under his nose. It was actually because he was standing outside, in the cold weather, but he did think it might sound like he'd been crying, which was mostly true. "... once we do let this happen, I don't think I could stop. Not like I did last night."

"Hey... I was there, too. Remember?" Brian turned his chair around, still hunched over, looking almost as if he was trying to hide under his desk. "You're not alone in this... and, tell me... when were you and I ever 'normal'?"

Michael released a soft chuckle. "Never, but... christ... any one of those nights we've been together, we could have taken it one step further and all my frettin', worryin' and botherin' you would've been over."

"I'd tense up if you didn't react like this, Michael. And it's tough for me to come back from 'tense'." Brian tried to make a small joke, but Michael didn't laugh. "Look... I know what you're saying. I was the one who was the stickler for the tests. And maybe I've always made you somewhat afraid of sex, scaring you to save yourself, not wanting you to be like me... but this is us..."

"I'd kill myself if I put you at risk, Brian."

"No you wouldn't. Kill yourself or put yourself at risk. I know you... but I have to ask..." Brian sat forward more, leaning elbows on his knees as he ran a hand through his hair. "... do you feel like I coerced you into this?"

This time Michael did laugh, awkwardly, like a snort and chuckle. "No... no, you didn't. You never do, you know. I'm here of my own choosing. I just didn't know..."

"Didn't know what?" Brian could almost hear the frustration building, Michael was angry at himself.

"How easy it is to let myself go... to be with you. To not even think about what I'm doing, consequences... which I know are there." Michael shrugged one shoulder as if Brian could see him. "I don't care about them, like I used to be. I'm letting the moment motivate me. Really trusting my instincts... my emotions, for once."

Brian took a calming breath, sitting back in the chair. "I thought that was a 'good' thing?" He found out he was becoming too attached to Michael, worrying over every single time there was hesitation, silence... or worse... disappearance.

"It's better than 'good'... it's damn fuckin' great..." Michael lost power to his voice. "... but I've always been told, or maybe I kept assuming, there'd be Hellfire and Damnation for me to pay... for us to pay, should we... you know... give in to forbidden temptations..."

Brian covered a hand over his eyes. Did Michael just call him a "forbidden temptation"? Gawd... even the way Michael chose his words was scintillating. "Sorry... that's a regulation Kinney family trait. Doesn't belong to you."

Michael could say something else, but there was another way to go about this conversation. "Doesn't belong to you, either."

"Are you waiting for the ax to fall?"

"More like the grand piano in the air to fall on my head." Michael decided to take a seat. "Brian... this isn't about you. It does involve you, but not between me and Ben."

"I still want to know what's on your mind. I hate not knowing why you're sad sometimes, what makes your head tick and tock."

"I'm not... I'd never run out on you on purpose."

"I know you wouldn't." Brian released a small grin, hoping it came through his tone. "I figured you'd like to hear a meaningful 'roar' for you. Show you I care."

"Believe me... if I don't know how you feel about me, by now, I need to be taken out and put out of my misery. Take me off the market 'cause I just don't know men from haystacks."

"What's really going on with you, Michael?"

"I can't believe what we're doing... behind everyones' backs... is what I really want and what makes me happy to wake up in the morning. I'm finding out more and more that it's what I've needed all along and I gave up so much for this..." Michael threw up his hands and slapped them to his sides. "... just to be... liked and loved by my family and friends. Worst of all... I shortsighted you... and I don't really know what to do next because my marriage hasn't shifted or fallen flat. Nothing's different." He took a long breath and kept going. "Nothing is the same, either. Ben and I are glorified roommates, at best. I keep expecting him to go ballistic about where I go. I haven't even checked if his working out isn't coinciding with steroid use again. He doesn't care where I've been or who I've been with. I keep hoping he'll tell me the trip is canceled, then pitch a fit I've ruined everything, just so I know he is alive in there and still cares... blah-blah-blah... _'Babe, you're a big ole stinkin' hypocrite'_... blah-de-blah-yaya..." He ran out of air, so he stopped talking. "I'm shocked, is all."

"Plain Jane Vanilla."

"Huh?"

"Ordinary. Everything isn't the same, yet it remains ordinary and in its place." Brian stared up at the ceiling. "What you and I are doing is sinful and wrong... but then you wonder why it feels so right and the world still turns and we're not crumbling to the Earth all battered and broken, fetal position ready and in a pool of our own blood, sweat and tears?"

"Jesus... I wouldn't have put it that way, but... yeah... sort of..."

Brian squeezed his eyelids shut, hoping this line of wording went over well. "Michael... would you like to have dinner with me?" He smoothed a hand down his shirt, finding something interesting on his tie.

"Dinner?" Michael furrowed his brow in deep concentration. "I have dinner with you all the time."

Brian was left disturbed. It was true, but he meant the question in a whole other light. "No... we have take-out and leftovers. We eat at the Diner." He cleared his throat. "I think we need a real dinner between us." He realized if he left too much space between his words, Michael might have time to actually think about what he was asking. "You need to come back and see the restaurant." Was that a good enough bargaining chip?

"Are you cooking?"

"No."

"Me?"

"... no..." Brian felt something fall onto his head, wiping the object away he discovered he was perspiring. He took off his suit jacket and looped it over his chair back.

"Well, then..." Michael paused, realizing what was being asked of him. "Holy shit!! Are you... is this, like, a date?" He couldn't help the goofy grin on his lips. "A really real dinner date?" He hadn't been on one since he started dating Ben.

Brian couldn't help smirking, imagining what Michael looked like. "Only if you want it to be." He groaned, inwardly, wondering what the hell he was doing.

"Would I have to dress up?" This conversation would be much too fun for Michael.

"... casual wear..."

"Brian, for you, a suit is casual wear. What about me?"

"How about we both agree to not factor in ties?"

"We could just not dress in any clothes or go out at all... eat in... we could cook together..."

Brian tsked under his breath, rolling his eyes. "... Michael..."

"Brian... I'm speechless..." Michael put a hand to his chest, feeling his body actually shake with elation. "I don't know what to say."

"Say 'yes'."

"Or you'll... what?" Michael could only dream of what Brian would do to force him out on a date. He could even make suggestions.

"Nothing. I'm not forcing you." Brian knew it would be difficult not to when he wanted Michael to say "yes". "Just... say 'yes'... it'll make me very happy."

"I thrive on your smile. No need to twist my arm."

"A refusal won't make me hate you, Michael." Brian felt bad, like he did force Michael. "I'd be disappointed, but I'd get over it."

"You... are such a liar. But I adore you for sacrificing your pride for me."

"You're still dodging the issue."

Michael bit his bottom lip, then licked it. "Am I obligated to go home with you."

Brian chuckled lightly, shaking his head. "It's only dinner, Michael. Whatever else you want is up to you."

"Damn... I'd say 'yes' to see with my own eyes what a 'date' with you looks like."

"Then... I'll pick you up." It wasn't a question.

"At the store." Michael wasn't asking, he was telling.

"Of course." Brian smoldered on the phone, wishing Michael could see him. "We wouldn't want Benji to get jealous. Nothing sours a 'date' like an unwanted third wheel."

"Brian... I may be saying 'yes', but I still have to see if Ben has anything..."

"No pressure." Brian swiped his hand in the air, making his point with his curt tone.

"Oh, Lord... you are one difficult man to displease. I was on a good self-pity high..." Michael looked around him, realizing an opportunity was staring him in the face and he didn't feel like backing down. "Okay! Fine! You got me. I'm all yours."

Brian readjusted his tight collar, loosening his tie. "If that were only true." He mumbled under his breath, still with a smile in his voice.

"Brian Kinney... you're such a sweet talker..."

"I'm barely gettin' started. Bye..."

"See you later, gator." Michael teased, deflating Brian's suave exit line.

Brian snorted loudly as he pressed the button to end his conversation with Michael, not realizing Cynthia and Ted were standing at his door. "Can I help you two?"

"Are you ready to work now?" Cynthia raised a lone dark eyebrow in curiosity. She knew a _**"Michael finally called me"**_ smile on Brian's face any day of the week.

"Yes, mother." Brian pretended to crack a fake whip over his shoulders, toward his back, making the "whip noises" with his mouth.

Cynthia dragged over two chairs for her and Ted to sit on. She dutifully sat, bringing out her empty steno notepad and Ted reopened his file, again. They had already made a decision, they were only going to run the idea by Brian's keen creative mind.

Ted coughed into his fist as he cleared his throat. "Like I was saying... Sherlot Enterprises -- quarterly gross earnings... they need to be..." When he looked up, Brian was leaning his cheek on a bent elbow, staring right through Ted's shirt and tie. "Jesus Christ..." Did Brian Kinney really look that lovelorn? At him?

Brian was actually sporting the world's largest shit-eating grin. "Please, go on, Teddy... I'm riveted..."

"You're high."

"You're lame."

"Boys!" Cynthia called out, slicing the air with her notepad. "Playground rules in effect. No name calling... and no calling attention to the others'... mannerisms..."

Ted flipped his tie to be less tucked into his belt. He felt like he was being choked, by his own nervousness. "Can you tell him to stop staring at me with those... dreamy eyes...?" He flittered his own hand around his own eyes to make them go "dreamy" at Cynthia.

"Brian... stop staring at Ted." Cynthia used her "mommy" voice with Brian, more than people knew.

"Relax, Schmidt... they're not for you..."

"Thank God!"

"You wish!"

"In your dreams!"

Cynthia turned her head away in complete disgust in both men, who played like little boys. "If either of you want to work today I'd like to get this account settled before the bank closes in four hours." Both Ted and Brian sat back in their chairs, quiet, looking down at their shoe tips. "Now if you don't mind... let's put this candied-ass bullying to rest for once and do some actually working for a change... Ted... TALK..." She then pointed at her boss. "Brian... CLOSE YOUR EYES OR LOOK AWAY..."

Both men obeyed in a calm, mature manner, right after they both flipped one another the middle finger.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
 _ **Red Cape... The Pick Up...**_

  
Michael was pacing the hardwood floors, muttering a dialogue to himself he had prepared to say at dinner. He had changed four times, mixing and matching tops and bottoms, fabrics and textures. He had changed his hair style three times; up to down, wet or dry. He couldn't even choose which of his colognes to wear, so he put on both, hoping the blended scents weren't too overpowering.

About the only two things he could agree on were shoes and what jacket to wear with his ensemble. Rockport Plain-Toe Oxfords (which were conveniently brownish) with his navy blue, hip-length wool pea coat and matching blue/white plaid scarf. He knew Brian said "casual", but somehow he figured Brian meant beyond even his own ideas of casual, which would probably still need a dress jacket. So he'd found some dark, dusty gray slacks (not Chinos or Khakis - real dress pants), which went perfectly with his long-sleeve, button-down dress shirt and the dark blue dress jacket. He'd packed that in his backpack, neatly, so it wouldn't get wrinkled under his coat.

Michael peered at his wall clock, then his wristwatch, noticing it was nearing Brian's promised arrival time. He'd been locking up the store, closing out the resister and tallying up his earnings for today. While doing this simple, every day task he thought over what had gone on today, from the time he'd woken up... until right this very second.

~*~

_Yeah, he'd known Brian had an early meeting, some ungodly hour like 6:20am, but the guy would be one of Kinnetik's newest multi-million dollar clients. So it wasn't good for Brian to be distracted, for him to want to stay in bed and lay the day away with Michael. Michael took himself out of the equation, but what he'd forgotten to do was leave Brian some kind of message. He did admit that was pretty rude, but he had no idea Brian would be so ticked off by a move he'd made constantly in his own life. That's why Michael was so stunned by Brian's offer of a "date", just threw him for loop._

_Michael had left the loft and drove home. As he had parked, he realized nobody was in the house. Ben hadn't even returned. He was spending a lot of time sleeping at his office in the college, but Michael knew better. He knew he wouldn't be able to think much inside that house, so he drove off, again. He found himself nearing the old family church and the graveyard where Vic was buried. He parked, getting a great spot. He was able to jump the fence and spent the rest of the morning watching the sun rise, sitting in front of Vic's headstone, wondering where it had all gone haywire. And still a little miffed Vic had chosen to haunt Brian and not him. Petty, yes... but he'd been the one to find Vic, never able to tell him a final goodbye... screw the "no unfinished business" business between them._

 _Somehow sitting with Vic, watching the blue lights of early morning change red/gold seemed comforting. Especially when his mind was riddled with such confusion and a need to be perfect for both men in his life, even when he was feeling so disconnected from Ben and their marriage. He didn't_ _even know how to restart that flame, much less how to smolder the fire building between him and Brian. He didn't ask Vic anything, just talked, pretty certain his uncle knew everything anyway, but maybe it was good to hear Michael say the words out loud._

_Michael had then felt the need to call Brian, apologize on bended knee (which was where he thought he'd never be with Brian) and give in to whatever Brian wanted of him, no questions. He had known before the question had been asked he'd say "yes". Always "yes". No hesitation. Hearing Brian's voice on the other end, that unsure nervous tone that would normally make Michael's voice quiver was making Brian sound like an overbearing brute of a friend._

 _More than just best friends now... maybe lovers, soon to be... what?..._

~*~*~

He shook his head, laughing at himself and his warped ways of thinking too far ahead, not able to only live in the moment anymore. He already knew what he'd given up for twenty years, there was no way he'd just let this all go. He had to keep thinking of a future, some kind of future to steady him, feel safe and secure. He picked up his backpack off the cashier counter, looping it over his shoulder, then shut off all the store's interior lights. He took out his set of keys, locking the dead bolt on the front door. He turned around, back facing the street, as he reached up for the gate to pull down. He should set his backpack down for this move.

"After all these years... all the men I've been with, and I have been with plenty... your ass still remains unsurpassed." Brian spoke from the distance, behind Michael. He blew out the cigarette smoke from the left side of his mouth.

Michael blushed, rolling his eyes, never turning to face Brian. "... and you wonder why I never went to bed with you..." He bit off sarcastically, trying to jump higher without ruining his outfit. He could feel his tucked shirt coming out of his waist.

"I'm too much man to handle..." Brian stuck out both arms from his sides, offering himself. "... obviously..."

Michael swiveled, wiping a hand under his chilled nose. "Put the cigarette out, James Dean... and come help me." He saw how motivated Brian wasn't to action, satisfied with "vogue-ing" on the Stingray's hood. "... please..."

Brian threw the cigarette to the sidewalk, snuffing out the lit end. "All you had to do was say 'please', Mikey. You know I'd do anything for you." He winked, jumping up like a professional basketball player and catching the bottom rungs of the gate. He waited for Michael to join in and help him.

Before he grabbed his end, Michael pulled the lock out of his pocket for the gate. "Been here long?" The slam of metal and cement echoed in the air. He strolled over to hitch the hook of the lock through both loops of gate and the side of the building.

"Saw you pacing in there... talking to yourself..." Brian stuffed his hands in his pockets, then leaned on the gate, making it groan with his weight. "... having second thoughts?"

Michael shook his head. "Nope." He picked the backpack up from the upper loop of fabric. "You?"

"Yes."

Michael stared wide-eyed and a little open-mouthed. "Wha-?" He was shocked into quiet, but oddly content with the way Brian relaxed and simply stared in his direction.

Not like before. It would never be like before, and if tonight worked out the way he thought... things would never be the same ever again.

"It'll be tough..." Brian pushed off to walk over to Michael, reaching out to cup his lower jaw and half a cheek. "... to sit across from you, talk, for an hour, as if we're having a normal meal and I don't want to take you home with me and fuck you..." He bent his head low, cool air causing their hot breathes to mingle in between them. "... all night and into daylight..." He was mere inches from Michael's mouth, teasing him to move toward him and start the inevitable kiss. He smiled, instead, then looked Michael's features and hairstyle over. He stepped back a bit to gaze at the entire appearance Michael was going for. He stopped smiling, swallowed, then leaned back on the gate again, lifting an arm up over his head to catch his fingers on the gate rungs.

"You couldn't simply say, _'You look nice, Michael.'_...?"

Brian bent close to Michael's face. "You. Look. Nice. Michael." Brian spoke in a very bland, robotic tone.

Michael smiled broadly anyway, because it was fun to tell Brian what to do and say, watch him follow commands as if he really wanted to do them. "Thanks, Brian." He tilted his head to the side. "You look good, too."

"Would I be breaking 'date' rules/protocols if I kissed you right now?"

Michael licked his lips, paying close attention to the bottom one. "Do you want to kiss me? You don't have to... unless you want to." Brian was already dipping his head lower, but Michael put up a palm to stop him. "I know what you meant... about the 'second thoughts'... we did make this 'date' together, but we..." Brian was still leaning over, Michael leaning backward. "... it's not written in blood. We can..." He wanted to suggest driving to the loft and sufficing with the normal dinner they'd usually have. He could even probably last through a tiny grocery shopping trip, but an entire night of dinner and... what?... was probably going to be close to unbearable.

"We're doing this... no matter how horny we are." Brian stared unblinking down into Michael's eyes, hands crossed at his back. "At least, we'll know how this date will end."

Michael smiled, impishly, then patted Brian's upper chest, over his thick leather coat. "... maybe..." He turned and walked to the passenger side door of the Corvette.

"... jesus christ..." Brian muttered under his breath, biting his tongue and truly pissed he never got his kiss at all.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
 _ **The Restaurant... The Date...**_

**__**   
The minute they walked through the front entrance, Michael was a tad speechless. It had been a little over a week since he'd been inside this place and things had drastically changed. Darker woods shined red mahogany, the old pleather replaced by decorative fabrics in the booths. Even the seats of the chairs at the tables were done over in the same woods and materials.

Michael stood in awe of everything. "Wow."

Brian walked up behind Michael, hooking an arm about his shoulder. "Yeah, I know. Pretty impressive."

The young team of Hostess and Host came back to the front podium. They were on cue with their welcoming smiles.

"Mr. Kinney... good evening..." The Host bowed slightly, directing Brian and Michael over to the bar. "We'll need a few more minutes to get your table ready. Have a seat, start your drink orders and we'll call you in shortly."

The Hostess held out her hands for both mens' coats. "I can take those to the coat check room myself."

"Thanks." Michael unwound his scarf first, then began to unbutton his coat. Hands were already at his back to take the sleeves. Michael had brought his backpack with him.

"I can take that for you, as well." The Hostess threw the two coats over her arm, holding her free hand out to Michael.

Michael held it tight, over his shoulder. "No. I got it." He turned to place a hand on Brian's chest, realizing he was touching the top of Brian's "casual" outfit. It felt thick, like a sweater, but softer than any cotton he ever caressed. He had to stop doing that and back away. "I'll be back. Grab us a stool." He took off for the bathroom, finding it on the way past the long bar. He stepped in and immediately went into a stall, locking the door behind him.

Damn! He was nervous, the car ride over hadn't been any less nerve-wracking. He hooked the backpack on the back of the door and unzipped the main compartment. He traded backpack loop on hook for dress jacket on hook, backpack on floor. He unbelted himself, re-tucked his shirt back in and then redid his dress pants. He picked up his backpack, the jacket and opened the door to let himself out. There was a counter top area of no sinks, with no liquid on the surface, so he set his jacket and backpack down.

He peered at himself in the mirror. He had tested the hairstyle he was going to attempt tonight at home and he knew how to bring it back to life. His black strands were now flat, because of the cold weather and slight breeze outside. Inside his backpack was the wax he'd brought, for touch-ups. Rolling up his shirt sleeves, he shifted down to the sink area, turned on the Hot side, then slowly introduced the Cold, to make lukewarm water. All he wanted to do was wet his hair. After he worked out all the kinky curls and waves, then he scooped out some wax onto the three fingers of his right hand. He rubbed his hands together, making sure the consistency was all over his skin, then worked it into his head, going in all different directions.

When it came time to finish, Michael didn't do his usual up-sweep in the front, he actually made a cool mussed-hair look where one side was spiked, the other laying awkwardly flat. Surprisingly, the swift action worked better now than it had at home and he was more than satisfied. He looked... kind of sexy, if he did say so himself. He washed his hands of the sticky goop, then dried them under the hand dryer. Just for extra kicks he twisted the vent, making the shoot point upward to his face, almost like a hair dryer. Windblown look... achieved. So he returned to the counter area, pushed down his long sleeves, then delicately slipped into his dress jacket. He tugged on the cuffs and his collar, then mistakenly glanced up at himself... and he paused in fright...

Some really interesting looking stranger was staring back at him. Was this really what he looked like... tonight?

Michael shut his eyes, gulping down some courage. No sense in hiding in here anymore, time to head out, back to Brian. He exited, while someone walked in, they nearly bumped chests. "Excuse me..." Michael chuckled, putting his hand out, how he would normally do... and the man held the door open for him. "Thank you."

"Not a problem, handsome." The complete strange winked, stared for a little longer, then went on his way toward a urinal. Nothing killed sexual attraction quicker than having to pee.

 

**~*~TBC...**   



	6. Chapter 6

Michael walked down the short hallway, then made his way past the same tables he'd passed through to enter the bathroom. He had quite a few admirers looking his way, both male and female. He spotted Brian hunched over the bar, his left leg possessing the stool beside him, saving it for Michael.

Michael plopped the backpack on the floor, then stood calmly beside the empty stool. "Have they called us in, yet?"

"Wha-?" Brian had been watching the mirror behind the bar, thinking Michael would be a little longer. In fact, he wasn't even sure this was actually Michael. His Mikey. "Michael...?" He had to ask.

"Yeah..." Michael climbed onto the seat, reaching for the glass of water placed in front of him. "... who did you think it would be?" He took a long draw on the cool liquid, needing the quench.

"Not GQ Mikey." Brian leaned backward to give Michael a hard look. "What... you were in there for, like, five minutes... what... and now you're here, all..." He flashed his hand in front of his own face, showing how different Michael appeared to him. "... where the hell did you go?"

"Bathroom. No biggie. I put on my jacket." Michael latched his hands onto his lapels. "Why? Is something wrong?" He glanced down at himself, hand roving down his woven dress shirt and dress slacks.

Brian shook his head. "No..." He bit at his bottom lip, hard, to keep from wanting to bury his face in Michael's neck. The way the collar upturned and lay, kind of, lopsided, making Michael look like he'd been fondled in a bed. He was showing off the pale stretch of neck and throat, tempting to suckle. He didn't know who or what smelled so good, but he had to go with whomever was beside him. "... just put on a jacket, my ass..." He mumbled while taking a sip of his wine.

Michael turned his head, looking Brian up and down. "What about you?"

"What about me?" Brian leaned his right side on the bar, slid off the stool and stuck his left leg out in some model pose. "I look... casual, huh?"

"You look... like me..." Michael gestured down to Brian's stylish dark green cargo pants, then the squishy, plush sweater he touched earlier turned out to be some type of cable knit, mock turtle, half-zipper Henley. He peered down at Brian's shoe choice. "Sketchers? Brian... what happened to you?" Michael had to agree the hair style wasn't like one of his own, but pure Brian Kinney. That's what actually made Brian's idea of casual wear work for him. On Michael it would make him disappear.

"You did." Brian leaned over to whisper toward Michael's available ear. He had to admit... this was only a ploy to smell him, breathe him in.

The Host walked over to Brian's side. "Mr. Kinney... your table is ready."

Brian picked up their drinks, carrying them as he gestured, with his head, for Michael to move first. "Let's go. Shall we?" He wanted to watch Michael from the back.

"We shall." Michael squinted his eyes at Brian, slid off the stool and followed the Host's trail.

~*~*~*~

They placed their order. The waiter left, taking the extra non-needed dishes. Brian poured out the wine. Michael took off his jacket, swinging it around the back of his chair.

"Thank you." Brian blurted out, when Michael faced forward again. He knew Michael would have been more comfortable with soda or beer, so he acknowledged the sacrifice.

"I'm not letting you slink away easy tonight." Michael tried to roll up his sleeves, but they fell down again, over his hands. The cuffs had no buttons, that was their "style", but it made Michael look as if his shirt was too big for him. The woven fabrics and strings were tight to his body, so Brian knew the shirt was perfect, almost too perfect. "You'd love it if we simply went to Woody's and ordered buffalo wings, burgers and beer." He slammed his fist down in silent, mock fury. "I'm tired of being your cheap, low maintenance 'date', while everyone else gets the good stuff."

Brian put out his right hand, waving his fingers up. "Here... gimme..." He took Michael's wrist and folded back the cuff. "Good isn't necessarily better." He kept his hand out. "... other one..." He rolled the sleeves up to an inch above Michael's elbows, making sure he could eat when the food came. He liked the texture of the shirt on Michael, when he rubbed the material he could feel the heat radiating beneath.

"Did you really make reservations here?" Michael allowed Brian to treat him like the little kid he sometimes acted like, made him feel cherished and special. "Or did you call in a few favors?" He kept his arm on the table, between him and Brian, because he was starting to love the way Brian petted him, where his shirt covered his upper torso.

Brian reached out to clamp his right hand on Michael's forearm, keeping his fingers curled around the muscle. "I haven't given this place any of my money. Most of my meals have been 'on the house'." He bent his left arm, resting his chin on his hand. "I'd be a silent partner, working on the sidelines, anyway. Most won't know me at all."

Michael scooted his chair over, wanting a little more closeness to Brian. "You're actually excited about this restaurant?"

"You saw what I did with Babylon." Brian reached for the middle basket of bread sticks. They were soft enough to break with just fingers, buttered enough in the baked dough itself to not need another spat of butter.

"That was easy." Michael wanted it, though, the extra butter on his bread. "This... seems harder." He took a sip of his water, letting the wine ferment in his glass.

"Why?" Brian ate the last of his bread, crossed his arms and sat back in his chair. " 'Cause I don't know the clientèle more than I know everybody on Liberty Avenue?" He settled his arm up and around Michael's chair back.

"... but you do know everyone on Liberty Avenue." Michael leaned into Brian's right side, elbowing him gently.

"Touche." Brian took a quick gulp of his wine, savored the taste, then took another.

"Sorry." Michael reached out to place a hand on Brian's thigh, soothing the tight muscles. "That... was a low blow."

"Still true." Brian quirked up one side of his mouth, awkwardly chuckling at himself.

"Brian..." Michael almost turned fully to face Brian, but Brian stopped his pursuit.

"Don't." Brian put up his palm for Michael to be silent.

"What? Don't touch you?" Michael yanked back his hand, rubbing the wrist.

"No. Don't 'baby' me. Stop apologizing for being honest."

Michael stared down at his plate, ashamed at what he'd said. "Not when it hurts you."

"I'm a Big Boy, just like you." Brian sat forward, bending down over Michael's head. "I can fight my own battles." He shot back to sit ramrod straight.

Michael detected a slight undertone to Brian's voice. "What's wrong?"

"Huh?"

"There's something you're not telling me." Michael looked directly into Brian's face, while Brian tried to avoid all eye contact.

"Michael, you don't..." Brian brought up his arm, about to use a small hand chop, but he stopped in mid-air.

"I do... and when you're agitated, you get snappish... like you are now." Michael turned around to face Brian, sideways in his chair. He reached out to snatch Brian's hand in the air. "C'mon... tell me."

"I really don't have much to say." Brian pulled the envelopes out of the long pant's pocket, down his left calf, gently laying them on the table, next to Michael's arm.

They both stared at the stark white envelopes. One marked for "M. Novotny"... the other for "B. Kinney". Neither of them made one move toward them. They'd gone in on the same day into the clinic, their appointments were one after the other. Both opted for the same method of notification, leaving Brian's business address as a first contact. No phone calls, no return doctor visit... just a letter of test results.

"Are those what I think they are?" Michael had brought his fist up to push against his lips. He blinked once, then raised his eyes to Brian.

Brian averted his head, revealing everything he'd been keeping to himself for the last few days. "They came to the office, by courier."

"Today?" Michael furrowed his brow, hoping he wasn't thinking something sinister was in Brian's head to keep them apart. That Brian might not be feeling the same closeness with him as he was feeling. He drew away slightly.

"I've had them... for awhile." Brian decided not to take a swallow of wine, but water instead. His throat was dry. "AIDs/HIV test results are quicker to come by these days."

"You've had them since..." Michael wanted to be sure and fill in all the missing blanks.

"I didn't open them." Brian shook his head, crossing his arms on the table.

"... we could've been..." Michael looked away, dumbstruck for a millisecond, then he began to wonder about something peculiar.

"I wanted to wait until we..." Brian tried to start his explanation, knowing it sounded better in his head than it did out loud, with Michael present. "I wanted time... with you. I didn't need to be rushed." He licked the circumference of his lips, clearing his throat.

Michael closed his eyes. "... shut up..."

"I suppose it's my turn to be apologetic." Brian kept his eyes lowered, knowing Michael's reprimand might be coming at him soon. Michael had every right to be angry.

"No." Michael let a tiny smile peek through as he reached out to place a hand over Brian's folded arms. "You need to hush up so I can think properly."

"It's all right if you hate me..." Brian shook his head, not knowing what kind of stupidity had entered his brain at the time he made the snap decision, but it had been done, time to move on. "... lying to you all this time."

"Brian..." Michael bent lower toward Brian's face.

"I want to be with you. I do." Brian closed his eyes, quickly grabbing for Michael's hand to wrap both of his around the shape. He held their joining to his chest, then lower in his lap as he sat back in his chair. "I didn't want you to think I was expecting anything. Just because we find out we're both healthy gay men... I'm not gonna automatically drag you into bed. I had to..."

Michael dipped his head to press a kiss to Brian's cheek, rubbing his face with Brian's. "... make me fall in love with you all over again." He whispered the words into Brian's ear.

"Wha-? Huh?" Brian went upright, in shock at what he'd heard just now. "Wait... what?" He almost dropped Michael's hand, but Michael held onto him tighter.

"I'm not angry or upset. I'm only..." Michael was lightly chuckling at this point. "I'm realizing, at this moment, that I couldn't love anyone else more or love you less... if you tried. We've always said we were never..."

"... about sex... or fuckin' each other's brains out." Brian was finally able to look Michael square in the face, then eventually... the eyes.

"If I ever doubted... you proved that fact to me, this second. I have no doubts to what you want."  
 **  
"... you..."  
"... me..."**

They snickered and shook their heads as they both had the same thought run through them, speaking the same word... sort of.

"Shall we?" Brian gestured to the stack of envelopes.

"Open mine, I'll open yours." Michael held out his hand, palm up.

Brian put his envelope in Michael's grasp, waiting for him to start opening before he began on the envelope he had in his hands. "This doesn't change anything we've started, got that? No going back, no going forward."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm not walking away from you because of some test results. If you or I are sick... we deal... agree?"

"Yes, of course." Michael was quite stunned, left breathless. He'd never known that was how Brian felt, that Brian would consider sticking by him if he was sick. He knew, for himself, he'd never be the one to leave Brian's side, but never had he fathomed Brian to feel much the same way.

They each opened the other's letter, reading the contents to themselves.

Brian was the first one to lift his eyebrow in curiosity. "Well... what's the damage?"

"You first." Michael nodded his head, acknowledging the information, his "poker" face in position. If he actually played poker.

"Cholesterol is a little wonky, but nothing tragic." Brian folded the letter back up, placing it on the table in front of Michael so he could read the good news for himself.

"Family trait, can't be helped." Michael gave Brian his letter.

"And me?" Brian folded it up, setting it in front of him on his place setting. He didn't want to read for himself, he wanted to hear the good or bad from Michael's mouth.

"Healthy as a motherfuckin' stallion." Michael threw a fake soft punch to Brian's jaw.

"I knew it." Brian pumped a fist, quietly near his body, under the table.

"Jackass."

"Your jackass."

"Yes. Mine." Michael covered Brian's hand on the table, then leaned over to press his lips soundly against Brian's mouth, ending the kiss quickly. "So... what do we do now?"

"Drink our wine, have meaningless dinner date chatter, while eating our delicious, yet inexpensive entrees..."

Michael sat back in his chair, rolling his eyes. "I meant after all that."

"I said no pressure, Michael. I'm not looking for a performance."

"I know, but what if I don't mind a tiny shove in my direction?"

"Simmer down. Let's spend the rest of the hour, or so, together and see what develops."

Michael smiled shyly over at Brian, watching him stare intently, then cover his cloth napkin on his lap as their meals were coming toward them.

~*~*~*~

The hour was spent as usual. Michael finding every reason to entertain Brian with stories. Brian added a few things, sharing his experiences when they applied, but he was mostly mum. Every once and awhile, he'd stop doing whatever he was doing and he'd stare at Michael.

Of course, he didn't assume on this "date" with Michael that it would feel like a "date"-date and they would sit and suffer through dating etiquette. But over the last few days, Brian couldn't help noticing a difference in Michael. He meant it, the other night, about the "glowing" comment. He wasn't trying to embarrass or shame Michael, make him feel more self-conscious than he already was. Brian couldn't help calling what he saw what it actually appeared to be.

Michael always made the room feel electric, brighter than usual and filled with laughter and a sense of family, even amongst strangers. That was normal mode. Brian couldn't imagine what would happen if Michael was truly happy. If Brian was really selfish, he'd take responsibility in Michael's attitude, but he knew better. Michael must be pleased about something else, afraid to reveal how great it was in case things went sour.

Brian was patient, never knowing it was him, plain and simple.

~*~*~*~

Michael had been feeling those hazel eyes on him all night, from the second he'd stepped out of Red Cape. It disturbed him a bit, making him lose fervor for the evening or wondering if something was wrong, food on his teeth, a rip in his nice clothing or a smudge on his face. The meal was going as he'd always imagined an evening out with Brian would be, calling himself Brian's "date" didn't feel any different. Except when Brian had eyes only for him, which became a little unnerving.

He glanced about the room for quite a long time, expecting a surprise of some kind. He didn't know what, specifically, but he knew he couldn't feel this great or this happy and NOT have something foul it up. Not one familiar face from Liberty Avenue. Not Ben... or Ma... something or someone he knew. It wasn't as if they'd traveled to another state or flew out of the country, where they wouldn't be recognized. What stunned Michael even more was how wonderfully ordinary the atmosphere appeared around them.

They were two men having a simple dinner, enjoying one another's company. Could be best friends, could be lovers... no one seemed to care, off in their own worlds.

"You feeling okay?"

Michael was startled out of his trance by Brian's tender touch to his cheek. "Huh?" He closed his eyes as the backs of Brian's fingers slid down his jaw line.

~*~*~

Brian caught Michael's hand in his, keeping their bond on the table."You look... traumatized and you're talking like you're going to run out of energy soon."

"I was thinking..." Michael had turned back to being sideways, facing Brian, keeping their meal and conversation private and hushed. He was completely full and done eating. His plate was nearly clean, but not enough was left to doggy bag it all.

"About what?" Brian raised one lone eyebrow in wonder. He liked knowing what was always in Michael's head, even though it frustrated him sometimes that Michael felt too much. There were those occasions where Michael could be absolutely brilliant.

"You should sign those contracts." Michael looked about the dining room, nodding his head as he wiped at his mouth.

"To do what?" Brian was confused to what Michael could mean.

"This... place... The Restaurant. You have an opportunity to do something great. Put yourself on the map again. Invest, as soon as you can."

"Are you thinking of being my 'business' partner?" Brian went still, realizing the word he used. "Forget..."

"No, no... no... stop. Let's not do weirdness like that. Don't feel you have to constantly watch what you say around me." Michael took another sip of his wine, hitting the bottom. "We never have before."

"It was never obvious to us before..." Brian cut into his food, taking the last few bites and chewing. "... to both of us, at the same time..."

Michael nodded his head in agreement, then smiled, widely. "Sure. Yes."

"What?" Brian stopped moving, glass at his mouth to drink.

"Tell me how much I need to give you to have 5% of the company profits and I'll write you a check tomorrow."

"Michael... sweetie..." Brian mumbled the endearment directly into Michael's ear drum, nuzzling his hair. "... I don't need your money."

Michael wasn't even phased by Brian's slip of "sweetie" (not really a Brian word), but kept the discussion going. "I know YOU don't, but maybe this restaurant needs more than one creative mind." He fluttered his eye lashes at Brian, with a tilt to his head. "Plus... I really want to do this with you." He was almost close to saying _"pretty please, with sugar on top"_.

"You WANT to be my business partner?" Brian was simply shocked by this revelation.

"No... I want a place... a place that's ours. Somewhere I can go... and sit and just know you were here." Michael bent his right elbow on the table and leaned his cheek on his hand.

"All our old places are gone, aren't they?" Brian sighed, leaning his brow against Michael's temple. "Jesus... you really want to do this... with me?"

"No lie."

"The amount would be based off of projected annual gross earnings. That would mean far more money than The Restaurant is actually taking in."

"... 'how much' doesn't matter, Brian." Michael put out his hand and counted on his fingers down the list of businesses Brian had. "Look... Kinnetik is yours... you and Ted have Babylon... why don't you and I form a corporation together? We could do what you're doing for this place.... helping it rise above the ashes and become brand new again."

"NOW you want to be a corporation? With me?"

"Isn't it supposed to be good business sense to crawl into bed with your business partners?" Michael wiggled his eyebrows at Brian, biting the inside of his cheek.

"Not literally, Michael. And if you did 'get into bed' with them... it would only be to climb the corporate ladder." Brian wrapped his arm about Michael's waist, pulling him close and pressing a kiss to his brow. "There's only you and I on this one... so you'll already be on top, with me... or the bottom... whatever..."

"Soooo... I can only sleep with you to keep my job?" Michael slid his arm up, along Brian's shoulders. It sounded as if Brian was considering accepting his offer.

"Somehow I don't see you ever being fired." Brian pulled back to look down into Michael's face. "Why do you really want to do this?"

"Jenny." Michael gave his head a solid nod, once.

"What about her?" Brian tucked his face next to Michael's head.

"When she's 17 or 18 yrs old... I don't picture her having a passion for comics, like me... or that she'd even like RAGE..." Michael bent his head, chin to chest. "Food... can't go wrong. Everyone loves to eat. Good investment and profitable."

"You don't think she'd be proud of you... just because?"

"... and you're not trying to make a success of yourself so Gus doesn't want for anything?"

Okay... Brian would give Michael THAT round, but he wasn't too sure Michael wasn't getting in over his head."Oh... he'll be a success on his own, no doubts. Look at me and Lindsay... I think it's a safe bet he'll do something creative, with his imagination or natural born talents."

"Maybe he wants to be Pre-Med... or Pre-Law... Maybe he wants to go to South Africa and offer his skills for free, raising money for some local tribe of villagers... or maybe he'll knock-up some random girl, just before he graduates and he marries her, then he enters the military..."

"Christ! Don't... even go there..." Brian shook his head, putting a palm up for Michael to be quiet.

"Why? What's wrong?"

"I have enough on my plate, dealing with past and present. I'm trying NOT to go overboard with the future."

"What about me?"

"What about you?"

"I'm in your past AND present... any chance I'm in your future, too?"

"Always."

"Good answer." Michael reached for the wine bottle again, refilling both their glasses. "A toast."

"Michael... I'm driving..."

"Sourpuss. You can still 'clink' me." Michael raised his glass toward Brian.

Brian brought up his glass to Michael's, clinking them once and then twice for good luck. "What are we toasting to?"

"To... new beginnings in great endeavors, rising out of the fire, like a Phoenix..."

"You... are fuckin' crazy, you know that?" Brian smiled over at Michael, trading water for wine.

"I'd have to be..." Michael stopped, about to take a sip of wine. "... to tolerate you this long..."

"Touche." Brian raised his water glass in ceremony.  
 **  
~*~TBC...**


	7. Chapter 7

_ **Michael's House... The (Awkward) Goodnight...** _

  
"You're serious... aren't you?" Michael sat stiff in his seat, only turning his head to look over at Brian.

"Yes." Brian nodded once, turning the ignition off. He kept his hands on the steering wheel.

Michael had to repeat what he just heard to make sure he'd heard the words correctly. "You'll walk me to my door and call it a night?"

"Yes." Brian twisted his head to look down at Michael, as he stared up at him in shock. "Isn't that what usually happens, on these things?" He helped close Michael's open mouth, tempted to kiss it. Instead, he simply rubbed his thumb over the bottom lip.

"Yeah... on a first date or a 'blind' date." Michael yanked his head away. "I'm pretty sure this last week or so pushed us past the kiss-on-the cheek, cop-a-feel phase." He used his hand to gesture how many "hurdles" they had stepped over to get here. Not here in the car, outside his house. A more... theoretical "here".

"Maybe we did things backwards." Brian shrugged, moving his right hand back to grab onto the leather steering wheel, needing something hard to squeeze.

"If that were so... we'd have had sex first."

"We've been having S-E-X, Mikey." Brian knew it was a lame response, but he had to try.

Michael shoved Brian's right biceps, sending him, almost, into the window. "You know what I mean."

Brian put his left hand between him and the door, before any damage was done. "Yes, I do." He shoved back, pushing harder. "Now get out of my car."

Michael was used to Brian shoving and pushing him a lot harsher, this was tame. "... but you're..." He pointed toward his passenger door. "... my door..." He didn't want to be picky or rude, but protocol had been followed most of the night, why were things suddenly changing?

Brian wrinkled his brow in confusion. "What? Your fingers broken... or something?"

"Or something." Michael mumbled under his breath as he reached for the door handle, missing a few times. Why was he shaking? He wasn't cold and he wasn't that angry. "If this was a 'real' date, you'd be..."

"Hold it." In the tight confines of the front seat, Brian put a hand in front of Michael's face, making him quickly shut his mouth. "I don't do 'real' dates." He brought his hand back to his thigh, bunching it in a fist. If only Michael knew what Brian was really doing to himself to not start the car back up again and drive them to the loft. "There... I already killed your scenario." He pointed his index finger in one direction, the direction Michael should head in. "Get out or I'll lock you in." Brian climbed out of his driver's side, coming around to see Michael hadn't made much progress in exiting. Michael was just putting his foot on the grass, muttering to himself as he tried to fix the seat belt clasp that kept getting tangled within his arm. He was also mimicking Brian, prepared to heft his body out... but Brian dipped low, expertly grabbing Michael, tossing him over his shoulders. Brian kicked the passenger door shut.

Michael swung up, catching Brian's shoulder joint. "Hey! Careful. That is vintage 1960-blah-de-yada Stingray Corvette. Kick that door again with your dirty footprints, I'll sick my boyfriend on you."

Brian adjusted Michael to carry him around his neck like a mink stole. "Yeah... I'd like to see your pussy-whipped 'boyfriend' try to catch me." He strolled across the lawn, not caring where he walked or what was being crushed under his feet.

Michael wasn't losing balance as much as feeling queasy. "No, Brian... seriously... Ben could come home. I have neighbors. They're impressionable and they talk."

"Let 'em." Brian was almost to the porch. "We'll give them a preview of the show they'll hate to miss."

"Brian! C'mon... put me down! I'm losin' circulation... an'... lung capacity. We're not teenagers anymore..."

Brian had stopped right at the porch steps. "You used to like me carrying you this way."

Michael spoke with what little lung capacity he had remaining. "Yeah. Summers. In the pool. Somehow... I don't think... grass... hard dirt... and concrete... have the... same buoyancy."

"Wuss." Brian mumbled as he put Michael down, gently, on the porch surface. He grabbed Michael before he fell over, a bit woozy from the blood rushing to his head. Brian set him upright and a little forward, on his two feet. Brian stepped back, onto the grass, looking up at Michael in the dimmed porch light.

"I'm a wuss for wanting to breathe and not throw up all over you?" Michael didn't understand Brian's penchant for stupidity.

"No... for ruining my... uh... 'moment'." Brian stood, feet planted apart, hands on hips.

"Sorry." Michael shrugged over at Brian, not really "sorry" at all. "I like air. I like... breathing." He tucked his hands in his pockets, teetering on his feet. If they stayed any longer out here, he would eventually stop being warm. "They've been nice to me, keeping me alive an' all."

"I'm nice. You like me." Brian began to put one foot up to climb the steps, toward Michael. "Want some of my air?"

"Good Lord!" Michael stretched out his hand to stop Brian from approaching him. "Was that... your 'move'?"

Brian didn't know what to do when the only thing he wanted to do was throw Michael back over his shoulder and keep him in bed for good. "No! I'm having to improvise."

"Thank God! 'Cause it was lame." Michael took out his keys, twisting around to head to the front door. "G'night!" He gave a slight wave over his shoulder.

"Michael! I don't even get my kiss?" Brian quickly hopped up on the porch, now towering over Michael, blocking the porch light. He didn't want to leave, thinking Michael hated him for ending their night too soon.

"Right now... I feel like puking," Michael had the key in the lock, but didn't turn it to open the door. He simply rested his right side on the paneling. "I had too much wine... and I think my chicken was coated in a thin layer of creamy wine sauce." He bowed his head, looking down at the tips of his nice shoes. "You held me upside down seconds ago. I got scared." His voice got softer, quiet and private. He could almost see his own breath in front of his face.

"Aww... is your tummy all rumbly?" Brian reached out a hand to place over the general area of where Michael's "rumbly tummy" was under his clothing.

Michael moved to lean backward on the door, staring at Brian directly. "Wow... that's like, the least romantic end-of-date comment you could have given me." He lifted up his arm, only to his waist and waved again. "Night..." He made the move of pinky and thumb to his ear, then mouthed the words. "Call me." He almost had the door open, knob twisted in his hand.

"Wait... Michael..." Brian had to think fast or Michael would be gone and inside the house, probably frustrated with him and calling him names. He clenched a hand around the door's framework, leaning into Michael's space."... you do understand why I'm doing this, right?"

Michael nodded his head in total agreement, with a small grin on his face. "Sure, but it wasn't necessary. I know you're not trying to get into my pants."

Brian brought his arm down, only his body was resting on the side of the house, his hands at his groin, clamped about one another. "But you sure are attempting to get into mine." He couldn't help smirking, glancing at Michael under his lashes.

"Can you blame me?" Michael threw his hands up in annoyance. "I've seen you look nine-thousand ways from sexy, since we could get into Babylon. But tonight..." He shook his head in frustration, hand on a hip like his mother. "I find that all you have to do is put clothes on... and you... I don't know... you had a way about you tonight, that I've not seen before. You were..." He couldn't even find the words to complete his thoughts.

"Boring?" Brian pushed off the siding, making his way over to sit on the railing of the porch. Michael's scent was still incredibly potent and causing him to want... things, mostly everything Michael would give him. He crossed his ankles and gripped the railing on either side of him.

"Newsflash." Michael walked away from the front door, as well, coming to stand in front of Brian. Almost toe-to-toe with him. "I happen to like boring. Though you hate admitting this... you do, too."

"Go on." Brian rolled his hand over, showing Michael he should continue with his earlier comment.

"With what?"

"Your thought... about me... I rudely interrupted, you didn't finish."

Michael nodded his head, then stared at the ground for a bit, gathering his thoughts. He folded his arms over his chest, making good eye contact with Brian."Tonight... it felt like it did when we had first met. When we were complete strangers, when we knew nothing, but wanted to know everything we could about one another."

Brian tucked his hands into his coat pockets. "I hope we never lose that feeling." He gave a sweet smile of understanding, knowing exactly what Michael meant.

Michael moved closer to Brian, off to his right, toward the area on the railing beside Brian. "It's why we get along." He raised his left hip high enough to slid over the railing, facing Brian. "We're open to change. We seem to mold and shape around each other. We might not always like the same things, but we can't help enjoying the company we keep."

Brian put his hands back on the railing, barely touching Michael's knee, skimming the pant leg. "I'm always trying to impress you. Get you to notice me."

"I notice." Michael nodded his head, then stopped as he looked intently toward Brian, who averted his head away. "I notice more than you know."

Brian spoke off in the distance, watching a spot on the side of the house. "I know you do. It's why I like being with you." His voice got hushed and low, like they were alone and in bed, under soft warm sheets. Hazel eyes glanced in Michael's direction as he went on with his explanation. "You don't mind when I go comfortably numb or when I run on empty, fed up with the world. I can shut down and you'll be right there... by my side." He lifted his hand to cup the knee joint.

Michael scooted down the railing, his leg now squished between he and Brian, so he moved a little, causing his leg to rest on top of Brian's right upper thigh. "I didn't think you paid attention to that kind of detail."

"That's what's good about us." Brian wrapped his arm about Michael's leg, hugging him to his side, under his arm. "We don't need to fill the silence with chatter. It can be just what it is, what we want it to be."

Michael tilted his head toward the house. "Sure you don't want to come in for coffee... ice cream... I got..."

"If I come in... I'll never leave, until you kick me out." Brian took some quick glances over his shoulders, checking for Peeping Toms... or Bens. "I don't really want to put a show on for Benjamin."

"Really?" Michael raised one lone eyebrow in befuddlement. "You wanted to put one on for my neighbors."

"I like them."

"... my neighbors...?"

"I don't know them from Adam, but I like them more than your husband."

Michael chuckled, shaking his head at Brian's humor, the humor only he could get. He reached out a hand to soothe down Brian's back, letting his arm rest around the shoulders. "You'll be okay driving home?" He rested his chin on the right shoulder joint.

"Yeah. I've done this route a hundred times. I could do it with my eyes closed..." Brian could hear the heavy sigh of grief in Michael's breathing. He knew he should word this statement a little better, for Michael's comfort. "... but I won't, because I will cause you to agonize over me."

"See, now was that so difficult?" Michael smiled, kissing the side of Brian's face, then moving out of his space and back toward the front door.

Brian wasn't far behind. "Michael, I'll do whatever you need me to do to put a smile on your face."

"Except the one thing you know I want." Michael knew that Brian might start losing patience with him, so he didn't continue with the begging. He simply turned to face Brian, not realizing how close he really was to him. "Then... kiss me." He snickered, because every step he took back, Brian took one forward. "Kiss me like you wanted to do a few minutes ago. Or like you wanted to do when you picked me up at Red Cape."

They stopped when they reached the door, slamming against the surface... hard.

Brian plastered Michael to the paneling of the front door. Michael's hands were above his head. "I don't want to leave." He leaned his forehead on Michael's jaw. "If I was... if I wasn't troubled by what you think my motives are..." As he lifted his head, he let his nose travel a line up Michael's face, making the motion end with their lips near but misaligned. "... I'd have undressed you by now." He whispered the words into Michael's ear.

Michael actually liked this display, showed him what was really inside Brian's calm, the storm always brewing if he wasn't careful. "... and make me the gossip of the next neighborhood bar-b-que?"

"The small price you pay to live in suburbia."

"You haven't kissed me yet." Michael licked his lips, unable to look at Brian with him being so close.

"Stop killin' the moment." Brian let go of Michael's wrists, sliding his hands down the door, keeping them equally spaced around Michael's body, until he came to the waist height.

"You need to be a helluva lot quicker or I'll..." Michael never got to tell Brian what he'd do if he wasn't kissed and Michael never got to find out what ending this night without a kiss would be like.

Brian kissed Michael, quite passionately. He stopped in mid-lip lock, resting their mouths together, breathing each other's air, sharing their warmths. Brian tried to back away, but he couldn't. Michael wanted to hold Brian, grab onto the leather jacket, but he knew Brian would leave him soon. Holding onto him, only to watch him walk away would be silly. So he kept his arms at his side, or tried to. Michael did manage to bump into Brian's hands on the door. And it was there... through their hands and fingers touching, that they held onto each other... never saying a word...

"... Fuck..." Brian groaned out as he buried his face in Michael's neck, turning into the throat. He wanted to stay, badly, wrap his body around Michael and just... breathe him in.

"Exactly." Michael leaned his cheek on Brian's hair, hugging him in only that manner.

"Don't..." Brian begged as he backed away, with his head first, then his body. His hands were still in Michael's clasp.

"... that's what you say." Michael teased, keeping himself on the door. This was what Brian wanted, Brian would have to be the one to decide to leave.

"I'll call you." Brian let one hand go, keeping their last connection so he could squeeze Michael's fingers in reassurance.

"When?" Michael suddenly wanted to savor these last few seconds. He attempted to catch Brian's hand in between his two, but Brian was quicker, walking away.

"Later tomorrow." Brian leaned on the porch post, one foot already down one step. "Once I wake up."

"I'll sleep with my phone then." Michael followed to where Brian was standing. At first, he couldn't believe this night was really happening, now he couldn't fathom why it was ending this way.

"Lucky phone."

Michael reached out to grab onto Brian's arm, clamping down. "Brian... I just..."

"No. Let it go. Please." Brian placed a hand over Michael's on his sleeve. "I know this feels like torture, but it'll be better for us."

"To go absolutely insane?" Michael sidled up to Brian, bringing his arm about Brian's waist and them closer.

Brian allowed his body to weaken under Michael's embrace. "No. To know that this is what we both want. That we're ready for whatever may come."

"Good or bad." Michael wasn't asking, he was stating he wouldn't move one way or the other.

"Huh?" Brian was curious to what Michael could mean by that simple comment.

"Never mind. My answer will be the same as it is now... two hours from this second."

"Give yourself some time."

"I did. This morning." Michael spoke fast, wanting to tell Brian what he'd done, where he'd been.

"Then allow me some time." Brian climbed back up the one step, making them face one another, chest to chest. He brought up both arms and let them rest on Michael's shoulders, dangling down Michael's back. "I've done some things... said words I never uttered before, reacted in certain ways that I thought would be the end of me." He bent his chin to his chest, feeling Michael lean into him. "I need to know myself, if this is where I want to be." He lifted his head to stare into sorrowful brown eyes that nearly killed him. "If this is 'real' enough for me to handle."

"We're good together." Michael reached up to grab Brian's jacket lapels and shake him, gently. He let his head fall to Brian's chest. "... so good, huh?" He rested his cheek on the smooth leather material, hearing the slight creak in his ear when Brian moved.

"The Best. Better than I ever imagined." Brian was speaking into Michael's hair, laying his cheek on the silky strands that had lost their style throughout the night.

"Don't... don't go to Babylon... or Woody's. Go directly to the loft."

"Okay.." Brian chuckled deeply, letting his chest rumble under Michael's face. "I wasn't planning on clubbing tonight, but I did tell you I'd do whatever put a smile on your face."

Michael moved his head around, brow on Brian's chest, this time grabbing Brian's sides, hanging on tight. "Go to the loft, walk through the door and go straight to bed." He shook his head slowly as he spoke. "Don't go to your laptop. Don't even work, if you brought files home with you, like you do at times."

"You'll have to slow down soon. This play-by-play analysis of my night is getting busy. Or you could write it all down for me."

"You'll know what to do once you're in bed. Pretend I'm there..." Michael slowly raised his head to look up into Brian's face. "... or, if you have some trouble... I could..."

Brian shook his head in disagreement. "No... good try, but not even close." He shifted his arms, his hands coming up to hold Michael's head steady, in the position he wanted it in.

Michael sagged in Brian's arms. "So it's really g'night?" He forced himself not to pout, only making his voice sound hurt and dejected.

"Yes. Goodnight." Brian gripped Michael's biceps and held him away, trying not to have to shake some common sense into Michael. Why was he suddenly turning into the logical one? "... not goodbye or good riddance." He cupped Michael's flushed cheek and rubbed at the chilled skin. "Jesus Christ, Michael... make it seem like I kicked a puppy, why don't you."

"This is all new for me. I'll get better, I swear."

"I'm not asking you to change... just... stop... stop looking at me with those eyes."

"Wha-? They're my eyes.. to see you with. What else would I do with them?"

"Oh... look at you.... acting all innocent. You know, and the worst is you know I know, so you use them to your advantage. Like when we were sixteen."

"... sweet, sweet sixteen..." Michael always loved talking about their past. He could tell Brian things now, he never could before.

"... birthday from Hell..."

"Not for me."

"Of course not. You got what you wanted."

"In order to 'get you', I wasn't expecting your father to beat the crap outta you." Michael let his eyes drift away, then smiled, chuckling lightly. "Remember... you showed up... Ma an' Vic took one look at you and Jack Kinney was about to have a porch full of Grassi/Novotny whoop-ass?"

"You included." Brian allowed Michael to lean into him. "It was the first time anyone stood up for me. The first time I knew what a 'real' family was all about."

"They were cool together... Uncle Vic... and Ma..."

"Best non-parent siblings I ever had."

"Do you think...?"

"What?"

"Never mind. It's getting late." Michael waved his hand in the air. "Go. Leave. Off my porch before my husband sees you. Get some sleep."

"Michael... don't shut me out." Brian realized, even though he had made a decision he wasn't going to back down from, he couldn't abandon Michael. "Talk to me." He clasped Michael's hands in his, walking them back to the railing, where he took a seat.

"I miss them." Michael spoke clearly, with no qualms. "Vic, especially..." He knew Brian might not like hearing this one, but it was true. He hated admitting it. "... and I miss her, I do. I miss Ma, but..."

"She wouldn't exactly 'approve' of us, so maybe it's a good thing she's not here... around... spying, nosying and pestering to know everything." Brian watched Michael bow his head, tucking his hands into his cuffs. "I know what you mean, though. I don't suppose finding her a new boyfriend would help much."

"I'd gotten to like Carl. He's a good man, set in his ways, but willing to compromise. Look how long he waited for Ma to cave about the wedding. I don't even blame him for leaving. He had every right to move on with his life."

"Can't be easy to love a woman like Deb." Brian put a hand up to his temple, like he'd gotten a migraine. "What am I saying... can't be easy to love women--period." He liked watching the smile spread over Michael's lips, discouraged when it disappeared quicker than it arrived.

"I wish she hadn't..."

"... put her Life on hold for you... ah-gain. Making you feel more guilt for her position."

Michael sighed and turned to fall into Brian's arms and simply lean on him. "Why do I bother talking, when you always know what I'm about to say?"

"Because sometimes... you'll say words that just slaughter me." Brian was hugging Michael from behind, resting his jaw on Michel's shoulder.

"Typical over-dramatic Kinney-ism." Michael patted Brian's hands bunched at his lower abdomen.

"How's this for dramatic?" Brian nudged his face into Michael's hair. "I'm glad you're in my life, because otherwise... I think I'd be dead already."

"Shit! Leave it to you to work in Death at some point."

"We all have to die sometime."

"... but what if we find out we never really lived?" Michael went with what he was feeling, instead of thinking about what to say.

"See... that, right there... that was all you, Michael." Brian pulled his body from Michael, patting him on the hips. "And nice try... but I gotta rush off. Beauty sleep is costly and time consuming these days."

"Okay... alright... you can go." Michael wasn't getting out of Brian's way.

"Don't be sad." Brian realized he'd have to move Michael on his own, with his own two hands. So he walked him back to the front door, then caressed Michael's cheek with the barest of fingers as he left. "There's always tomorrow." He took the two steps down in a hurry.

"Yeah... that's comforting." Michael yelled out toward Brian's figure in the distance.

"Night, Michael." Brian simply said this through the air, but didn't hear anything said in reply.

"..."

Brian paused in his walking, turning back to face Michael on the porch. He was leaning on the door, staring, he hadn't made one move to get inside. "Michael?" He was prepared to run back if anything was really wrong.

"Ah, sorry..." Michael shook himself out of his trance. "... was watching you walk away. Nice ass."

"... dirty perv..." Brian called out to Michael, hoping a few neighbors heard him.

"Takes one to know one." Michael yelled back, just as interested to see if any lights in the houses around him turned on.

"I am not... your man-meat..." Brian posed, flexing his muscles through his leather jacket. "... to be ogled..." Then he moseyed over to the Stingray, throwing himself over the car's shape. "... vilified..." He flipped over the hood, attempting to "spokes model pose" his way to the driver's side. "... at your cheap... tawdry... expense..."

Michael snickered, shaking his head slowly as he crossed his arms over his chest. He leaned back on the front door, wondering when the tables had changed. At what point, during these moments with Brian, had Prey become Predator and Predator... turned into a housebroken tabby cat?

Oddest thing was... Brian was still managing to look, act and speak like Brian Kinney.

Michael was falling hard, and fast, all over again. This time willing to do anything to get what he wanted.

~*~ **FLASHBACK ENDS** ~*~

  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

  
~*~ **PRESENT** ~*~  
 _ **Hospital- Room 1043... The Storyteller...**_

  
Brian listened to the voice. He couldn't help it, the tone was low and soothing. How he imagined newborns interpreted the sound of their mothers after they were born. He couldn't remember his own mother, much less anyone specific except... him. This particular voice was familiar and enchanting. It made him feel whatever he was saying or doing at the time.

Right now, the man talked about the days before Brian's accident. Sounded a bit jaded and one-sided, a little fairytale-ish. Not that it wasn't believable, just that the storyteller took some liberties of his own. The voice was hushed, kept private, so nobody could hear but only them.

Brian almost yearned to lean his head close, almost knew the man was whispering on purpose to force him to bend to his will. Brian had ideas, notions of people around him, their coolness and their warmth. The body to this voice was excessively warm, the touch beyond comforting. He tried to picture the face, but fell short... digging backward through time, wondering if he knew this man. He spoke as if they'd known one another forever. Brian wanted to be able to touch him, open his eyes and see for himself what was going on.

He knew where he was, had been in plenty of these places to smell the excessive sterile, antiseptic environment. The Clorox bleach, the industrial strength chemicals full of massive anti-bacterial components and the cross between waxy floor polish and freshly scented carpet cleaners. He was oddly content here, he knew the drill.

He was in a hospital, on an extremely comfy bed, in a very spacious room that constantly echoed. But not when the man was near, then... it was nearly directly in his ear drum.

As Brian slowly came back into his mind, years of memories passing through him, he began to wonder where Michael was... and it hadn't hit him, until halfway through the semi-fictional account of this "dinner date", who was actually with him. Touching his face, holding his hand... he wanted to scream, yell, make it known he now knew... but the guilt of not recalling Michael sooner weighed him down. Surely didn't measure the amount of time Michael had always been with him, than he cared to admit.

One thing he didn't know... was why he was here. He could barely feel much past his mid-chest line on down. He was scared... frightened even, like those nightmares when you scream in a crowded room, but no one hears, because there's no sound to your voice box at all.

Brian was aware of one thing... how much he wanted to reach out and feel the voice... Michael's voice... he'd never known it, really heard it to discover how lyrical and musical the tone could be to his ears. There was a beat to everything Michael did, his silence was louder than anything.

Dear God... no wonder he had felt so content to relax and lay here. Michael was near, so everything must be alright. Michael kept his promises... he would never leave... ever...

Brian's heart rate jumped, hand twitched... and this time his arm raised, from his elbow joint. Bone and muscle shifted, stiff after sitting still for so long, coming to the left, finding the sensation of soft waves and silky curls. There were tangles at the back, from constant tossing and turning, a slight length at the nape where there was once a perfect shaven hairline.

How long had Brian been here... in this bed... in this hospital? And why couldn't he... move... do more than this simple annoying action...? Why wouldn't his eyes open... his lips move... why could he only hear what was going on around him? Yet do nothing about it?

Brian swallowed... coughed... feeling tremendous pressure in his esophagus and nasal cavity... pressure that went directly to his brain, giving him a killer headache... he almost choked on his next inhale of breath...

Suddenly he no longer felt warm, but chilled... someone hovered over him, reaching over his head to press a button...

Two more bodies rushed in. they both moved to the head of the bed, lowering the bed rails, then unlocking the forty-five degree angle they had the patient sleeping at.

 _**"... pull the tubes out... he's trying to breathe on his own..."** _

**_"... but won't that hurt him..."_ **

**_"... he'll hurt himself if we don't do something quick..."_ **

"Brian!... I'm right here!... I'm not going anywhere..." Michael's voice became distant, but not before he gave the "Everything's alright" squeeze to Brian's limp, but twitching hand. "Is that... Is that normal?" His voice was trembling in shock, not expecting Brian to wake up this fast. He was louder than any of the other voices, attempting to be heard above the fast-paced chaos. He covered his mouth, wanting to cover his ears, when he heard the terrible gurgling sounds coming out of Brian's once unconscious body.  
 _ **  
"... hand me the trash can..."**_

 **_"... and get some towels... we're making quite a mess here..."_ **

Soon the room was full of more bodies, coming from every direction. Michael moved further away, realizing they all did this routine every day. What did he know?  
 _ **  
"... quick... gimme some vitals..."**_

 **_"... I have Berchaurd on the phone..."_ **

One of the nurses rattled off the series of numbers into the cordless phone. _"Yes, Doctor... yes... we will... I'll write the order and draw the meds... yes... "_ She nodded her head and walked back toward the nurses' station. _"... you have a good evening, too, sir..."_ She hung up and unclipped her pen from her scrub top, then scribbled some writing on the patient's chart and headed for the locked medication cart in the supply room.

Brian was in and out of coherency... Big Mistake... trying to breathe...  
 _ **  
"... his eyes are rolling back into his head..."**_

 **_"... should we be worried about seizing..."_ **

**_"... yes, but not now... his body's in more pain than he can actually tolerate, once he gains consciousness..."_ **

**_"... so his body shut down... just like that..."_ **

**_"... our body's are good decision makers, when we don't want to listen... they keep us safe..."_ **

**_"... they also make us spontaneously vomit when we don't like certain vegetables... like lima beans..."_ **

**_"... onions... they make me hurl..."_ **

_**"... there goes my onion/lima bean casserole recipe..."** _

A round of laughter circled Brian's bed.

 _**"... our bodies tell us everything, if we'd only listen..."** _

**_"... look at you... all spiritual and whatnot..."_ **   
_**  
"Where's Ruth?"** _

**_"... Berchaund wants Ativan... small doses to increase if he gets more agitated over the next four hours...."_ **

**_"... well, if he ain't worried, then we won't worry..."_ **

**_"... just 'cause he doesn't come in, doesn't mean he's not worried..."_ **

**_"... he's probably digging through all his medical journals now, trying to figure out why this patient didn't follow protocol..."_ **

**_"... is there protocol to an unconscious/comatose patient..."_ **

**_"... no, darlin'... never is... they're all different..."_ **

**_"... you know most of these Docs are only in it for the money and hoopla..."_ **

**_"... I'd rather believe in my patient... thank you very much..."  
_**  
Ruth, Brian's night nurse, popped back inside, injection needle in her right hand, plastic cap over the pin-point. She had an alcohol pad in her left hand. "How's my boy?" She'd, somewhat, grown attached to Brian while he'd been here, in her care.

 _**"Fallin' asleep on his own."** _

**_"Look at him. Gosh... to sleep the dream of angels..."_ **

**_"Wish I could conk out that fast. I'm afraid it's only cat naps for me, lately."_ **

**_"Are you actually saying you wish you were in a coma?"_ **

**_"Noooo... I just wish I could fall sleep quicker... there's a big difference..."_ **

**_"Girls... simmer down... family's still in here..."_ **

A chorus of "Sorry, Michael" (some said "Mr. Novotny") could be heard around the room.

Ruth walked over to Brian's intravenous line, swabbed the injection port in the tubing with the alcohol pad and pushed the needle in. She waited a few minutes, looking at Brian's monitor, in order to gauge how fast to push on the needle stopper, so the liquid could flow at a slow rate. "Michael..." She called out, gesturing with her head.

Michael wiped under his eyes, wandering toward Ruth's side, watching the women in the room scurrying out of his way. "Is he... was he awake, at least...? Did Brian...?" He hated knowing he was right there and didn't notice a thing. How long had Brian's hand been moving, while Michael had been asleep?

"No, Michael. But this is a good sign." Ruth reached out with her left hand to clenched Michael's forearm, crossed over his chest. "He's on his way back."

"... so he's still unconscious..." Michael kept his head bowed, looking closely at Brian. He was a little stunned to be able to see all of that beautiful face now, no longer blocked by those tubes.

"Yeah... the girls will clean him up for you. We'll put the NG tube back in. Boy needs to be fed, still. But you can say goodbye to that oxygen contraption down his throat. We'll get him the Y-tubing for over his face, the pin heads sit right in his nostrils. Nothing painful about that, huh?" Ruth glanced at Michael's bent head, finishing with the injection. "Hey, sweetie..." She recapped the needle, handing it off to Missy who went to place the used needle in the bio-hazard bin on the wall. Ruth wrapped an arm about Michael's drooping shoulders. "This..." She gestured with her hand, the length of Brian's body. "... is scary, but we're better than we were five minutes ago..."  
 _ **  
"... look on the bright side..."**_

 **_"... one less machine we have to plug into him... and the wall..."_ **

**_"... not to mention dragging it behind his bed to X-ray..."_ **

There was a light round of snickers, then sudden quiet.

Ruth, walked Michael out of the room. "Alright, ladies... behave..."

Missy gathered her troops together, having made them search for new bed linens and towels and a new gown for Brian. "You heard the Sarge. Let's get Mr. Kinney cleaned up, in some new bedroom attire and back into his sleeping position." She stood at the head of the bed and called out the orders to her fellow nursing aides.

The other registered nurses had left or were leaving the room. Excitement was over. No medical attention needed, just simple personal care for the patient.

 

 **~*~TBC...**


	8. Chapter 8

Ruth stood with Michael, right outside the door; they looked in through the huge window. "We can turn him over for you, if you want. The special mattress is supposed to protect him from getting bed sores, but sometimes it's good to keep moving him around. When patient's bodies are still and unmovable, like he is, this tends to help with fluid in the lungs too."

"Yes..." Michael leaned against the wall, eyes intently on Brian, no one else. "... if you could, have him face me."

Ruth nodded, then leaned into the room, grabbing the doorjamb. "Missy..."

"Yeah, Ruthie?"

"Left side, please."

"Sure thing, Boss."

Ruth nodded her thanks and came back to watch Michael. "Dr. Berchaurd will be here an hour early, before rounds. Looks like he might order Brian another round of neuro tests. His day will be full, that's for sure."

"Does this happen with most coma patients?"

"No. Some don't come back for months. Even years."

"My Uncle was out for a week. I was too numb to ask then. Worst week of my life."

"And this time?"

Michael turned to face Ruth, poorly executed smile on his lips. "It doesn't even compare."

"Michael... I meant it. This is great news. While it may have looked as if Brian was being tortured, it's better than him not feeling a damn thing. Means he's a fighter... and he'll fight dirty to take his body back."

Michael blinked, averted his head toward Brian, again. "So it's true... what they said about him being in pain?"

"Much more true than any of us know for sure, especially the Docs."

"Do you think people can come back for a reason?" Michael slowly twisted his head to look at Ruth, directly in the eyes. "One single reason?"

"What? You think that boy came back because he wants something?"

Michael allowed a genuine smirk fill his face. "Maybe." He then closed his eyes and shook his head. "Never mind. It's selfish. I should be grateful for this moment and I'm squelching it for my own benefit."

"I don't think you know the meaning of the word 'selfish'."

Michael turned his body completely around, crossing his arms and leaning his right side on the wall of window. "Call me crazy... but I think he's been hearing me... and he's pissed."

Ruth crossed her arms at her back, quirking one side of her mouth upward. "Pissed? About what?"

"He made a second date with me."

"Excuse me?"

"He never got to take me on our second date." Michael looked over his shoulder at Brian, through the glass. "He made me a promise... and he never breaks those with me."

"You may or may not have a point, but I'm fairly certain there could be one other reason."

Michael lifted a lone eyebrow, like Brian would have done. "Oh? Which is?"

Ruth placed a gentle hand on Michael's folded arms. "The 'lifetime' he promised you."

Michael stared at her for a long time, silent and still. He surely didn't expect this woman to touch his face, caress him like a doting mother would. One, she didn't know him that well... and two, she just didn't seem like the touchy-feely kind of person most mothers would be like, but she was a master with her own patients and their family. Michael was slowly finding what he'd been missing for a really long time -- that unconditional love and bond with his own mother. He shut his lids in quiet misery, feeling moisture gather in his eyes.

"Michael... you're here. That's what matters most to him. You're getting a second chance, most people don't get anything that miraculous. Don't blow it." Ruth patted his cheek, then strolled back to her chair behind the nurses' station counter.

It only took another ten minutes for Missy and her co-workers to clean Brian up, get him re-hooked to his NG tube and newer oxygen tubing. They exited the room in a massive rush, leaving Michael alone, again, with Brian.

Michael shook his head in quirky sadness as he shut the door on the staff and the world. "I swear... they've all made assumptions without asking me." He shut off some of the bright lights, leaving the ones over Brian's head on. He walked over to and around the bed, coming along the left side. He noticed the women had even prepared the sleeping chair for him. "... and I must confess..." He turned back around to walk up to the bedside. He reached out and cupped a hand over Brian's right hip, rubbing up and down the side of the long thigh. "... I haven't really cared to steer them in the right direction." Michael thumbed the back of his ring, watching it rotate on his finger. "We're quite the popular item here, you know. Like the cool kids in school. The in couple to know." He hopped up to sit on the bed, leaning back and pushing Brian's body more toward him, so they were both leaning on one another. "You and I... and it's been nice to be thought of as, uhm... yours, I guess."

Brian couldn't believe he was still able to hear Michael, even after all that commotion. He'd gone back asleep, out of his mind, maybe... then once the noise had quieted down and the pain went bye-bye... he returned to his body. It really wasn't so bad. This... these moments are what he lived for. He wished he could open his eyes, move his hand again... speak at least. Michael was so close, yet so far.

"... but I suppose that night we were together, I did become yours... though you hate me saying it that way. Like somehow you own me." Michael waved his hand through the air, then tucked it between his thighs. He crossed his feet at the ankles, swinging his legs back and forth. "Finally, huh? Yours." He chuckled to himself, sniffling as he picked at the threads of Brian's new gown, then caressed down his bare arm. "I still remember everything. Could never forget how we..."

Wha-? Why did he stop? Why did Michael suddenly stop talking?

Brian wanted Michael to continue, because he was interested in hearing Michael's side of that night, like a fly on the wall. Michael felt free enough to be as honest as he could be, without any worry.

Instead, he felt Michael leave the bed, shaking the mattress. His shoes hit the freshly mopped and disinfected tile floor, then he leaned over Brian's face, right hand cupping and caressing the side of Brian's head, touching the growing beard. There was a lingering touch because Michael hadn't been able to do this for almost an entire week. Michael sniffled again, leaned over to mesh his forehead into Brian's mop of hair. Brian felt the first teardrop fall, then another and then two more, before Michael drew away. Michael wiped at his face, bending down to kiss Brian's upper cheekbone, resting a few seconds on the pale, cool temple... and then he walked away.

Brian heard the scraping of that stupid chair that kept Michael away from him, sleeping alone, yet right beside him. Michael would fall asleep, holding his hand, sometimes entwining their fingers. It wasn't much, but it was enough... always...

Always enough for Brian to completely let go and slip back into unconsciousness, knowing the hand was there, forever within reach, if he should stumble or fall... or both.

"Now... where was I...?" Michael retook his seat and started back into the story of the night they first spent together... well, the night they first had sex, real sex...

~*~ **PRESENT ENDS** ~*~

  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

  
~*~ **FLASHBACK** ~*~  
 _ **Michael's house... The Epiphany...**_

  
Gosh, it was late. Two hours since Brian had dropped Michael back home. He couldn't sleep. He secretly hoped Brian was in the same boat.

Ben wasn't home, yet and Michael was pleased since he couldn't stop thinking about Brian when he walked through his front door. He tried sleeping upstairs in bed, but that proved futile when he kept thinking he heard a car pull up, sounding like the Corvette's engine. The most he got was eight minutes before he shuffled off the bed and went to the window. He decided to grab his favorite pillow and an extra throw, planning to curl up on the couch, downstairs, in the hopes he could curtail his confused mind. He wasn't confused about his feelings... those were plainly clear. What he was perplexed on was how he'd come to love both of the men in his life, but finally figured out he did love one more than the other.

Maybe Michael would have to make a choice, pick one over the other and hurt one man to win another's heart. Was it really that simple?

He thought about watching TV, but that would be counter productive and pointless. Then it came to him.

A road trip game he and Brian had created. Like Magic 8 Ball, but with more answers. All you needed was a radio, good reception and an open mind to simple or complex interpretations. Could be played alone or with a partner, numbers didn't matter. Ask your questions, spin the radio tuning knob and whatever song played when you stopped... that was your answer.

Michael took a seat on the coffee table, dug around for the stereo remote. He put himself on "pause", realizing the stereo actually held twenty-five CDs at a time. Twenty-five CDs, at thirteen to twenty songs per CD, that was certainly better odds he'd stop on a title he knew by heart and could formulate a great response from. Pushing on the Power button, Michael hadn't even asked his question before the answer came blaring out at him.

Journey's **DON'T STOP BELIEVING**...

He giggled, sometimes loving and hating this music game entirely. He moved his thumb around to hit the Random button, waiting for the CD player to choose as he asked The Almighty Magic Twenty-Five CD selection...

"What do I do with Ben... my husband?" Michael closed his eyes, tight, then opened one lid, halfway.

Out came... Madonna's **TAKE A BOW**...

"Wow! Niiice. Pretty succinct." Michael chuckled, shaking his head how much this sometimes worked in the direction he wanted. "Uhmmmm..." He tried to think up his next question. "... uh, what about Brian... my best friend, what am I doing?"

The random-izer took it's time, but then once it settled on a particular CD, it played... Prince's **GET OFF**...

Michael almost fell over with hilarity. This was way too true... and freaky. Magic Twenty-Five CD selection was like a mind reader. "Okay... not fair. I doubled up on that one." He scratched a thumbnail at his brow and hairline. "Good answer, but I get a second chance."

He attempted the Random button again, see if maybe it was fluke. The spindle went around and around, picked one CD, the track wouldn't play, so the twenty-five CDs spun again, working its "magic"... turning around and around until it found another song it liked better. Michael was patient, ears tuned to what he would hear next. Once the player pick the CD and the LCD screen showed which number it was and what track was on, the music began... and Michael closed his eyes in complete bliss...

Phil Collin's **TAKE ME HOME**...

 

He had loved this song, as a kid, singing it for a whole other reason than what he interpreted today, right this moment. Especially with the lyrics, they certainly fit thirty-something-year-old Michael, rather than a younger one. He hoped the songwriter didn't mind if he took the song as his epiphany, even though it probably meant something more different to the songwriter. That was the whole point of Magic Radio game/Magic Twenty-Five CDs -- an open mind willing to change.

Michael sighed, semi-satisfied with his "random" answers. He switched the stereo back to AM/FM, leaving it on the station he liked listening to as he fell asleep. The only one who seemed to be able to soothe him into slumber, some nights, but not the last few weeks nights. He brought the remote with him as he plopped down on the couch. First on his back, fitting himself snuggly in the plush cushions. He adjusted his pillow to the back of his head, fitting it just so. He snatched the thick throw he brought, at the end of the couch, and covered himself as he turned to lay on his left side, facing the back cushions. He put the remote in his pajama bottom pocket, tucked a hand under his cheek and burrowed under the warm fabric.

He closed his eyes, waiting. The late night radio program, Lilah In The Moonlight on 105.6 KCEY FM in New Jersey, normally played from 11pm to 3am. There was a commercial break at the moment, but... being a little after 1:15 in the morning, Lilah would return with her special call-in hour, which aired from 1am to 2am. People would share their personal experiences or stories, then the caller would request that Lilah choose a song she thought best represented whatever emotion she felt the story made her feel.

A year or so ago, Michael figured out this program was staged, had to be. No one was this good at milking human emotions. He had some idea the station would pre-record these calls, days before, when Lilah wasn't on air. Lilah and her crew of crack-pot researches would dig through and mastermind this fiendish plan to squeeze the communal tear ducts of anyone daring to listen in. He thought this only because for that hour... Michael could guarantee he'd end up with tears in his eyes or sobbing into his pillow for almost the full hour, taking breaks when Lilah went to commercial. This was a guilty pleasure of his and one he usually hated himself for in the morning, making him have profound insight, into his own life, when he was supposed to be in deep REM.

As close to 1:30am as time had become, Michael knew Lilah had most likely been through two callers already, so he shut his lids, closing his eyes tight and pulled the blanket up to his face, in case he needed to wipe at his eyes. Lilah had a calming radio voice, almost too husky for a woman, but it fit for this late night, afterhours atmosphere.  
 _ **  
"... I've been in this medium for a long time. It's rare that I find myself dumbfounded and speechless. I've had a gift since I was eight... could always say the right thing, know exactly how to word language to make people feel whatever emotions they'd been hiding behind... I say 'rare' because I'm at an age where I've seen everything, heard every excuse and lived through my own heartbreaks and tragedies... In fact, my husband used to say, '**_ **LIL, you were born an old soul. You've already lived this Life once before. You're teaching us mortal fools how to do this right.'** _ **... I can't help agreeing with that statement, but there have been times where even I'm stumped. Where it's not the story that grips me... or even the morality of it all... but that sweet soul on the other end of the line just... grabs me an' won't let me go... When there's nothing I can say or do to make anything come through, even for myself. Nothing is right, especially the silence..."**_

Michael rolled onto his back, hem of the blanket still up over the bottom half of his face. This one felt like a doozy, and this was only the beginning. Lilah had full reign over her air time; she could talk forever if she wanted, take commercial breaks when she felt like. It certainly seemed like this morning would be one of those moments.  
 _ **  
"... Forgive my returning Old Soul for what may or may not come out of my mouth as I talk for the next few minutes..."**_ Lilah cleared her throat off-mic, probably taking a sip of water, with a fresh Kleenex box nearby. _**"You'll recall a few months back... a young woman... barely twenty-five... Kim, was her name. She called me up to share her woes. It was a time in her life when things were good, when she'd finally found the biological mother who had given her up for adoption and when she was introduced to the man who fathered her all those years ago. Kim was starting her own family, a loving husband... a new baby on the way. Shockingly, the reason Kim actually called our request line was to let me hear her 'real' tale... about a man... a true gentle-man who had practically changed her life around. She knew she'd been a tough kid, hard to hold... hard to love. She made life a literal Hell for her foster parents, shuffled around here and there during her most formidable years. Though she saw many faces, never remembering any of them... there was one man who had showed her a kindness she never knew she deserved. He saw through all her teenage bravado and got right to the Little Girl Lost. The only adult who resonated in the murky darkness of her troubled mind and heart..."**_

Michael flipped onto his right side, staring straight ahead, watching the blue-hued LCD screen of the stereo in the distant. Lilah's voice filled the room, the booming bass making it seem like she was actually here... with him... just talking... and sharing a Life moment... to let anyone know -- she was human too.  
 _ **  
"Kim was placed in a juvie detention center, never really able to reconnect with the man who'd been married for not quite a year to her last foster mother. She only had a first name to go by. The foster mother died, Kim was shipped off to another juvie center and... people lost touch... some lost their way for a bit... It took a few years for Kim to get back on her feet, change her life for the better. She had nothing but rumors and gossip to go by, but she was one determined young woman to hunt this man down. Word got around Kim was searching for him, but it always came to dead ends. Pretty soon... culminating into Kim discovering the only man she'd considered a 'father figure' to her... had passed away... alone and homeless..."**_

The tears stared to collect in Michael's eyes, so he tugged the blanket up to help catch them.  
 _ **  
"... the night Kim called me she was elated, but saddened. Heartsore that she had two perfectly adoring, healthy parents... yet, she mourned the solitary passing of a near stranger."**_ Lilah could be heard sniffling. She was coming closer to the end of her tale, where reason and lessons would merge. _**"I assumed she wanted me to play a song for her... or her newly found parents... no, that wasn't so... Kim asked that I play a song for the man she would never forget, dedicate something to his memory, for everything he gave and taught her in the short time they were together. Now... this hour is normally my picks for you, the listener, but that night... I was so deeply enamored with Kim and her story, I asked her to give me some suggestions about the man himself... just so I could have an idea of who or what he might like to hear..."**_

Michael could almost hear Lilah's own tears, how quickly she wiped them away, taking hurried sips of her water. He decided to sit upright, leaning forward on the couch cushions, elbows on his knees and hands dangling in between. He was riveted to the stereo speakers.

 _ **"... Little did Kim or I know... a few hundred miles away... Byron... would be listening to the same program that very morning. Byron recognized the story... he had known a young girl named Kim... but what he could not believe was that she was alive, well, and not in jail... attempting to look for him, but she'd had the wrong name all this time..."**_ Lilah shook her head, letting a slight laugh escape. _**"My dears... I've never seen Mother Fate work her magic hands like this... you see... Kim called me regularly, off air. She kept me updated on how she was doing, how the baby was and pretty much how she was coping. All I had been given was her phone number, so when Byron called the station... at a decent hour... we were more than willing to reunite these two soulmates..."**_

Michael wiped a hand down his face, stopping at his mouth. The use of the word "soulmates" made him think about Brian, wondering What Ifs and If Onlys... and being thankful for the way things had worked out to bring them here... but Lilah wasn't finished.

 _ **"... well, it's been several months past and I, nor any of my staff, had heard from Kim or Byron. We thought to leave them alone, let them reconnect on their own time... praying and hoping one day we could have them both on air."**_ Lilah paused... this was the moment... the moment she got paid good money for... the reason she had the shift she did and the ability to work hard or not at all... and she waited long enough to make anyone listening lean in for more. _**"... Two weeks ago Byron called the station... and he had news, but it was certainly not what I expected..."**_ Her voice was cracking, emotions churning and whirling around her. There was a reason she'd waited so long to bring this portion of the story to the radio... it was still fresh on her mind. _**"... Kim had passed away, suddenly... the victim of a head on collision... I didn't know what to say, but Byron couldn't have been more gracious to me and my staff for bringing Kim back to him and allowing her to spend what little time she had... on this Earth, with him. He spoke to me through his own tears, while I found nothing I could say to make things... okay again."**_ Lilah had given up wiping away her tears, she simply went on talking, doing what she did best. _**"A week ago... at home... I get a lovely bouquet of roses and a card... and inside that card was a letter from Byron... he restated all that he'd said to me on the phone, but he also added a few words of advice he wanted me to share with all his fellow listeners... and '**_ **No, Byron... I don't mind letting the world know what a very kind and generous heart you have.'** _ **..."**_

Michael covered his face with both hands, letting his own tears flow. He could hear the rustling of paper, as if Lilah was unfolding a letter in her hands.

 

“ _... I may have had a short time with Kimmie, but those moments were cherished and held precious. They were enough for me, though I do miss her. I have missed her, greatly, but I do understand that sometimes souls like hers aren't meant to linger on this Earth. Maybe she was taken so early to end a future suffering. Maybe she's the lucky one, while we all will look like schmucks in the eventual Apocalypse... What I have to share with your audience is this -- take time together, with those you love and treasure, to tell them how much they mean to you... so they have enough time to tell you how much you meant to them... never take for granted that tomorrow is just around the corner... live life like there isn't going to be a tomorrow, love like there was no yesterday...”_

Lilah stopped reading, took another sip of water, then leaned into her microphone. _**"... No truer words have been uttered, Byron... and of course I'll play your song for Kim... and may she rest in sweet peace and silence..."**_

... there was a slight pause in the transfer of Lilah's mic to recorded music, but soon the song began...

 

Celine Dion's **BECAUSE YOU LOVED ME**...

Michael... was a complete wreck. He didn't like knowing that cheesy American Top 40 music could make him crumble like a toddler who lost his Mommie in the grocery store. But it was Celine Dion after all. He laughed into his palms, while wiping roughly at his face, attempting to rid himself of wetness. He stood, looking down at his bedroom attire, deciding that beggars couldn't be choosers. He was only going to see Brian.

He took out the remote from his pocket, turning the stereo off. He stood in the middle of his living room floor and made a final decision... do or die trying. He walked around the couch, realizing he was without socks, but he had slip on sneakers in the foyer, where his jacket and keys hung. A little one-two-three count and there he was out the door... moving on with the rest of his life.

 **~*~TBC...**


	9. Chapter 9

~*~ **FLASHBACK** (cont'd)~*~  
 _ **Brian's Loft... The Epiphany : The Sequel...**_

Michael managed to find a parking spot, one car length behind the Stingray. He sat for a little, waiting for someone to walk down the sidewalk, who needed to get inside the building. Lucky for him there was someone coming his way, he could see her in the distance, in front of him.

The woman was tall, willowy, wearing an obvious brunette wig; the style was too pristine and shiny. She was dressed in stiletto heels, white fishnet stockings, a white leather skirt and a fake leopard skin coat covered her upper torso, above her waist. She was waiting herself, tapping out a cigarette, then lighting up. She was trying to avoid something. She was carrying an oversized black canvas duffel bag and set it down to take a breather. She didn't look like she belonged in the neighborhood. She actually appeared as if she was making a "house call" and not the medical kind, more of a female escort or a high priced hooker. Whoever she was, she was going to help Michael get into the building without anyone knowing.

Michael got out of the car as soon as he saw her hesitate, taking out the smokes. She puffed a few breathes more, then snuffed out the ends on the cement. She made her way over to the intercom system, to get her "friend" to buzz her in. By the time Michael reached the woman and the door, he made it look like he'd been out for a quick jog, coming back home. She never saw Michael walk up behind her, running in place.

The woman pressed the apartment number, again, and spoke into the speaker. "Stewie... lemme in...! I'm freezin' my sweet tushy off 'ere!!" She teetered on her feet, only to step back to look up and over toward the window she'd be able to see "Stewie" peer out of. She bumped into Michael, but he was able to wrap his hands around her biceps and catch her from falling. "Oh... whoopsie... sorry, suga'..." She, apparently, was only slightly tipsy.

The buzzer sounded of the apartment occupant allowing them entrance.

Michael was quick to be gracious. "Here... I'll get the door for you." He held open the door, using his backside to hold it in place.

"Well, now... ain't you a sweetie-pie." The woman awkwardly bent over, caving her knees inward, because her skirt was too constrictive, as she picked up the large duffel bag. It was probably full of sex toys, bedroom paraphernalia and, possibly, costumes.

Michael put an arm out to stop the woman from walking in one more step. "I could carry that for you." He was feeling in a generous mood, and Brian wasn't really expecting him; he had time to kill. "Where are you headed?"

She may have looked frail and dainty, but as she walked in, letting her coat slip off her arms, it was clear she could take care of herself. Or Him-self in SHE clothing? "... 'preciate the offer... but I'm already late." She bypassed the elevator, moving toward a door just off the staircase. It was hidden, probably where the super or the landlord resided. She knocked once, then turned the knob, already knowing that the door would be unlocked for her. As she wandered inside, she swiftly turned around to give Michael a quick wave "g' night".

Michael nodded his head in acknowledgment, then paced to the bottom step. He sighed, looking down. There was no going back once he started. Christ! He'd said that four or five different times, the further he drove, on his way here. He was checking and rechecking his confidence and the emotions he was feeling in the moments he pondered.

Always the same. Michael wanted Brian, in every single way imaginable. Michael loved Brian, as plain as the nose on his face.

He climbed the stairs two at a time, reaching the metal door. He had to stop, not for anything really thought-provoking, but because there was a folded note taped to the door. He yanked it off, opening it up to read. He couldn't help the goofy grin plastered on his face as he took in every word.

 _**"I knew you'd come back. Couldn't resist me, huh? Keep this. The key, on the back, is yours. Don't abuse the privilege. If I feel like it, I'll be in the bedroom. Now use it and get in here. B.~~"** _

Michael was overwhelmed with what he could see with his own eyes as he flipped the tiny letter over. A key... that was certainly some kind of powerful suggestion. Like an outstretched hand beckoning to him, _"... come be with me..."_

He unlocked the door for the first time with his own key, never thinking something like this would ever happen to him. He slid the door open gently, making sure the wall moved quietly along the track. Without knowing if Brian was asleep or wide awake, Michael still wanted to maintain the element of surprise.

The loft was dark. Michael quickly shut off the security alarm, swiveling to re-lock the door behind him, then punching in the security codes. He glanced over into the living room area, not seeing any sign of Brian, near the window or stretched out on the couch. Brian had to be in the bedroom. Michael took off his jacket, which went over a breakfast bar stool, then toed off his sneakers, kicking them under the same stool. He still had his own set of keys in one hand, then the new loft key in the other. He took his time, putting the loft key on the ring, then slipped them into his jacket pocket.

He nimbly twisted on bare feet, looking in the direction of the bedroom. He'd done this walk a hundred times before, but this felt different. He shuddered, closing his eyes, as if he could "see" Brian laying naked in bed, awaiting his arrival. Normally, if Brian was alone, the mattress would be swallowed up, Brian sleeping spread out, dead center. As Michael neared the steps, climbing them slowly, he found out Brian had already anticipated not sleeping alone. The side Michael had taken as his... was empty. Brian was laying half on his left side, half on his stomach. His left arm was bent and tucked underneath him, but his right arm was curved and bunched around the pillow Michael would eventually use and had used before. Brian didn't hug the plushness to his side, he buried his face in the pillow, using it to block out any light and all noise.

Michael reached the bed, biting his bottom lip as he got on his knees and wobbled over the mattress, gaining approach to Brian's body. He planted his fists on the bed, as well, and began to crawl, hovering over Brian's form under sheets. Michael stopped once he was equal to Brian's face below him. He smiled, knowing he'd get what he wanted... soon. He bent his head to start kissing the bare skin around Brian's shoulder joint. He chose not to go down the arm, but to follow a trail along Brian's body, to where it could possibly be naked beneath.

Brian shifted awake. "Wha-?" He squinted up at Michael, realizing how dead to the world he'd been, not hearing Michael come in. "... hey-ya... hi..." He croaked out, his voice having been more asleep than his own body. He rolled onto his back, right hand rubbing his eyes, the left tucking Michael's pillow under his arm and to his side.

"Guess what?" This time when Michael lowered his head, his lips met the pale wide forehead. He lingered his mouth along the hairline. "... my key works."

Brian shut his lids in bliss, his hands reaching out to grab Michael's hips. "I see that." He wouldn't mind simply laying here and allowing Michael free reign over his body. "Did you...?" Brian leaned further back into the pillows to look at Michael. He raised his torso up on his elbows, left hand smoothing over Michael's face. "... 'ave you been cryin'...?"

"Yes." There was no reason to lie, and more reasons to tell the truth.

"Did I...?" Brian looked more bothered by the evidence than he usually would be. He smoothed his thumb pad over Michael's lips.

"No... well, maybe yes..." Michael turned his face into Brian's palm, kissing the center. "... but mostly, no."

Brian chuckled softly, bringing his hand down, because Michael started to lick his skin. "... oh-kay..." He had to think of a way to prolong this moment. He wasn't ready and he didn't want Michael to find out he wasn't prepared, emotionally. He decided to choose a rare thought... being honest with Michael.

"I love you." Michael stared down at Brian, smile overtaking his entire face.

Brian averted his head, rubbing his hand up and down Michael's sides. "... Michael..."

Michael lowered his head to be only a mere inch away from Brian's face. "I'm ready." He set his forearms on Brian's pillow, beside his head. He began twisting the brown strands of mussed hair, then touching the light tan skin with his finger tips. With the barest of touch with his lips, Michael traced along Brian's jaw line.

"... Jesus, Mikey..." Brian's hands shaped over Michael's back, meeting along the curved spine. He wanted to subtly fit his hands between them to hold Michael away, so he could say a few words, but Michael was determined to not let go.

"Stop pushing me away." Michael mumbled the response against Brian's throat.

"I'm not." Brian arched his head backward, as he laughed, feeling Michael's rough tongue along his skin, the way his body perfectly aligned over his and their groins met each thin barrier, revealing exactly what they were going through in the moment.

Michael stopped, lifting his head to stare into Brian's face. "Tell me what I'm doing wrong." He soothed the backs of his hands over the sides of Brian's face.

"Nothing..." Brian closed his eyes when Michael shifted, causing him to sense the hardness pressing into his own. He sucked in some air, unable to be sure he was really awake or still dreaming. "... I swear..." He was able to get one hand tucked between their chests, palm up and flat to Michael's torso. He didn't realize he'd begun to try pushing Michael back a few inches.

"You are pushing me away." Michael looked down at Brian's hand, then raised himself up, hands sliding on the mattress to plant on either side of Brian's arms. "I want to be with you..." He quickly dipped his head, seeking Brian's lips to kiss. He drew them upward slowly, roughly letting Brian's go. "... I want to feel you..." Michael sent his own hand between their bodies, his hand tracing down Brian's body, under the sheets. "... closer..."

Brian shut his eyes, not believing he was actually going to do and say this. "I want that, too, but...." He brought up his other hand and pushed hard. "... Michael... please..." Damn, Michael was stronger than he thought, those wayward lips kissing wherever they could land. "... wait..."

"What for?" Michael paused, tilting his head to look at Brian, under him. "What else can you conjure up in your over-obsessive mind to keep rejecting me?"

There were a few seconds of uncomfortable silence. Michael's brown eyes almost black and beginning to anger, Brian's eyes lightening to a near gold, his brow furrowed and eyes wide with dismay.

"What?! I'm not rejecting you, I'm rejecting me!"

Michael didn't understand what Brian was saying. "Pardon?!"

Brian used his hips to push Michael up so he could sit, back against the pillows and wall. "I have a lot... ah-lot to live up to." He spread his hands out to stress his point. "My one biggest fear is disappointing you. I know I have before, though you'd never tell 'em to my face." He then gestured to the bed and them together. "This... sex... it may not be what we are, but it is all that I am."

"No..." Michael adamantly shook his head in disagreement.

"... Michael..." Brian rolled his head around, knowing Michael would defend him.

"No!" Michael shoved Brian's chest to stop saying things like that about himself.

"C'mon... don't..." Brian tried to put his arms around Michael and bring him close, but Michael held him away. "… don't be angry."

Michael placed his hand over Brian's mouth, shaking his head again, but a thousand times faster, nearly giving himself whiplash or a bad headache. "No, sex isn't everything you are." He sighed, sliding off Brian's body and seating himself on the bedside. He knew rejection when he saw it. Why couldn't Brian simply tell him he didn't want him and end this torture? "Not to me!" He hit his own chest pretty hard in the center.

Brian raised a curious eyebrow, throwing off the covers to reveal himself. "Look at me!" He wanted Michael to look at his naked body, tell him what he could see.

"I am!" Michael glanced, once, then had to turn away. It was clear that Brian wanted him, but was struggling with something inside, some deeply rooted fear or emotion. He reached out to grab the sheet to cover Brian back up, feeling embarrassed at how vulnerable Brian was appearing.

Brian snatched Michael's wrist, tugging him to his body. "Yes... you always 'look at me'..." He shifted down the mattress, coming to meet Michael, face to face. "... with your lovely and gentle eyes..." He leaned on his right hand, reaching up with his left to touch the parts of Michael's features he was talking about. "... then you make beautiful poetry with your eloquent words..." Index and middle finger skimmed over Michael's mouth. "In the end..." He then leaned backward, on both hands, knowing how close in proximity his groin was to Michael's arm. In the short time they'd been together, Michael had often wrapped his palm around his cock, stroking him to an inevitable release. There was something very raunchy and sexy just picturing it happening, but not allowing it to really happen. "... sex is eventually what everybody wants from me." He knew Michael could feel his heat, sense a vibration between them and even the scent he was giving off. Sex was everywhere.

"So, I lose by default... because other men see you as a sexual object." Michael wrinkled his forehead in complete befuddlement. "What? I can't ever have sex with you?"

"No, I'm not saying that either." Brian realized how much the honesty could destroy them if he let it fester too long. "This time it's me." He brought a hand up to his chest, rubbing over his own skin. "Me that needs to feel good about myself." Brian leaned toward Michael, meshing the sides of their heads together. "I want sex... don't get me wrong." He whispered the words directly into Michael's ear, watching him close his eyes in utter anguish. "I want it more with you, but it can't be what keeps me coming back to you... or you to me." He turned his head into Michael's hair, sliding down to rest on his neck.

They weren't touching with their hands, but there were other ways and means to connect. The nudging and nuzzling was just as truth-telling as a real caress.

"What can I do?" Michael forced out on a rush of air, his voice low and weary.

"Wait... be patient." Brian slid down and around to the other side of Michael's head, burrowing deep along Michael's throat and shoulder.

"I have waited, Brian." Michael rested his cheek on top of Brian's hair, essentially trapping him down.

"... and I'm asking you to wait a bit longer, is all." Brian blinked fast, finding out what he was saying was registering in Michael's crazed mind. He hated doing this, but it had to be done or they'd never walk away from this moment any different.

"Why...?" Michael hated how desperate he sounded, so he bowed his head. "Why are you punishing me, like this? Do you hate me?"

Brian lifted off Michael's body and looked directly at him, his own anger almost simmering. "I don't hate you." He looked hurt and baffled. "How can you say that? I'm not..." He brought up his right hand to lay on Michael's chest, but never touching the t-shirt he was wearing. "... this isn't punishment, Michael... for anybody."

"Sure feels like it." Michael never raised his head.

Brian felt guilty for making Michael loose his momentum. How happy he'd been when he arrived to how sad he looked now. "I'm sorry." He pressed a hard kiss to Michael's temple, which caused Michael to lift his head. "... sorry..." He kissed Michael's upper cheek, never moving away, as Michael lifted his head more. "I'm sorry." Brian could feel Michael's open mouth near his ear and pressing close to his cheek.

Their eyes met, they tilted in opposite directions, leaning in... breathing slowly...

"I, uh... gotta go..." Michael chose to end this right now. He sniffled and got up off the bed.

"... don't go..." Brian begged, not knowing if Michael would ever come back. This wasn't a good time to be as honest as he'd been, but when was a good time?

"Then why am I here?" Michael turned around, arms dangling down his sides.

"Because..." Brian was about to go into an in-depth reasoning, but that was his version. He wanted to know what was running through Michael's mind. "No... you tell me."

"... because I'm fuckin' certifiable, apparently." Michael bowed his head and brought up both hands to cover his face.

Brian moved under the sheets to sit on the side of the bed, feet on the floor. "Then I'm right behind you." He knew he still had Michael, somehow -- some way, he was in there and waiting.

Michael wandered over to the wall of Brian's closet doors. "Why?" He put his arms out to question Brian's methods. "Why now, Brian?" He folded his arms over his chest, then leaned back on the wood paneling. "You couldn't have had this grand epiphany another time?"

Brian bunched the linen about his lap. Even a solemn and heartbroken Michael turned him on. "When is the right time to finally grown up?" He stood up, wrapping the one sheet around his body, hiding his arousal.

"Uhm... most likely when I'm about to throw myself at your feet."

Brian chuckled, hoping that was the right response, that Michael was trying to be funny. "You were really gonna do that... tonight?" He shook his head at Michael's rise in confidence and audacity. He sauntered over, standing nearly toe-to-toe with Michael. He was reaching out a hand...

Michael put out his own hand to stop Brian from coming closer. "Brian, please... don't play around with me. Stop the joke... or end the taunting, because I'm not sure what I'll do if we don't..." He was too tired, emotionally and physically, to keep Brian away for too long. He gave up... or gave in... and found the hand he planned to use to stop Brian was being held in Brian's own hand, then eventually, once Brian was inches away, trapped the hand to the wall.

Brian leaned his brow on Michael's, rolling back and forth as he shook his head. "I know... I know... me, too." He wanted to kiss Michael again, the lips looked succulent and full. "... more than you know..." He stopped pinning Michael to the wall, letting him go. They were only connected by meshed foreheads. "I'm not playing. Not this time. I'm dead serious." He had to reach out and plant his hands, five-finger spread, on the wall beside Michael's shoulders. "I'm beginning to wonder why some folks stick around and come back." He let out a rush of self deprecating laughter. "What is it about me that attracts anybody? Not just men?"

"I don't..." Michael wanted Brian to kiss him again. He could even imagine unwinding the sheet around Brian's waist and cupping his erection, giving pleasure during pain.

Brian went on as if he hadn't heard Michael speak. "... and why you? Why me? Just why?" His brow moved off Michael's and slid to bend close to the wall near Michael's head. "Why can't I feel half of the way I do with you, with anyone else?" The little motion gave them the ability to shuffle closer, but not close enough. "Seems easy, right?" Brian lifted a curious eyebrow. "But after years of being with parents like I had, I can't help thinking what I really bring to the equation."

Michael chuckled softly, shaking his head in wonder. "Not only do you dress like me, you've got rambling thoughts mulling in your head like me."

Brian turned to look into Michael's eyes. "I've always wanted to, secretly, be you."

Michael was a bit taken aback, but pleased to hear he hadn't been the only freak. "I wanted to be you too."

This time, Brian couldn't let the moment go without touching Michael with his hands. He first cupped the shoulder joints, his own head shaking in perplexity. "... jesus christ... you looked..." He was flashing back to their dinner together, when Michael walked up to him at the bar. How completely shocked Brian had been to see Michael dressed up for him. His hands roamed over Michael's chest, grabbing the cloth of the t-shirt, lifting it up enough to create a space between hem and waistline, exposing naked skin. "... incredibly devastating tonight, during dinner." He managed to work his hands under Michael's shirt, clawing at his bare flesh. "I can't get you out of my head." Which was very true and why he had fallen asleep so deeply.

"I know." Michael snickered and breathed at the same time, letting Brian have his way. Even though he was allowing Brian control, Michael knew he could still get his own back.

"No... I don't think you do." Brian lifted his head up, chin high, thinking there weren't enough words in the English language to help him convey what he was really feeling inside. "I sat there staring and watching you and I realized something."

"I look good in blue hues?" Michael raised his eyebrows.

"No..." Brian shook his head emphatically, then began to think about what Michael had on during dinner. "... well, hell yes, but..." He dipped his head, mouth open and tongue tasting exposed skin, whatever he could find. "I want more of that with you." He paused for a beat, listening to Michael's heart, listening to his breathing, waiting for his hands to explore. "Those little moments of normalcy." He pushed his brow into Michael's face, sliding up to meet Michael's forehead. "The dinner..." One arm up on Michael's right shoulder. "... and the date..." The other arm on the left shoulder, fast trailing down Michael's chest to his elastic waistband. "... the excitement and nausea I felt." He pulled away, catching the look of shock on Michael's face. Brian nodded his head, biting down on his top lip. "I want more you.." This time both of Brian's hands met on the t-shirt hem, lifting the material up to Michael's arm pits. Brian inched his chest closer, making sure patches of skin and protruding nipples touched first. "... with me." He watched Michael try to catch his breath, his belly quivering with every caress. "... the US-i-ness of us." He smiled, then quickly pulled the cotton fabric over Michael's head, the short t-shirt sleeves imprisoning Michael to the wood paneling.

"Damn..." Michael chuckled out on each shaky breath, turning his head away, allowing Brian to partake of his neck and left shoulder. "... now you're inventing words like I do."

"I admire and respect you, so much." Brian began kissing from cheek to shoulder joint, taking his own time. "More than anyone I know." For a bit, he tucked his face in Michael's throat, inhaling scents and letting emotions roll through him. "I'd die if I did something idiotic to lose all that with you." He made his mouth slip-slide across the line of shoulder bone, then lay his cheek on the naked skin, resting. "... letting you down in any capacity, really..." He turned into Michael's skin, biting and chewing. "I can't, and I won't, let that happen."

Michael closed his eyes, repeating the words he'd heard not but a good hour or so ago. _"Live like there is no tomorrow, love like there was no yesterday."_

Brian actually found those words pretty profound. He lifted his head, only enough height to press his forehead into the wood beside Michael's left ear. "Who said that?" He turned to face Michael.

"Byron." Michael arced his head back on the wood, a little smile on his lips, liking the fact that he knew he had this effect on Brian.

"Lord Byron?" Brian furrowed his brow, bringing his head around to look directly into Michael's eyes.

"No... regular, ordinary breathing Byron..." Michael's eyes weren't leaving Brian's lips. "... never mind. I'll explain later." He leaned forward into Brian's cheek, the only thing he was able to touch Brian with was his mouth, and one leg below. He hiked up his right leg, tucking his knee between Brian's thighs and pushing upward.

"You will?" Brian almost choked the words out as he tried to breath correctly. "You're not leaving?" He was more than happy to hear that; his body sighed with relief. For a minute there, he assumed Michael would let things go only so far and then... skedaddle.

"No." Michael swiftly maneuvered the t-shirt fabric out of Brian's hands and over his own head, where the material lay scrunched at the back of his neck. He was no longer held against the wall. He brought both hands up to cup Brian's face in his palms. "I never was." Michael pressed heavy, lengthy kisses on and around Brian's lips. "I never can." Each time he broke away to breathe, and glance at Brian's face, he smiled, his brown eyes alight with passion and fire.

"I was having a good dream." Brian was pleased to have Michael take over the foreplay. He reached up to latch onto Michael's wrists. He rubbed up and down one bone, leaning his head into the strong palm.

"About?" Michael pulled Brian near, chest to chest, one leg sticking in between Brian's thighs. So close Brian had to balance himself on the door, arms spread, palms flat to the paneling, above Michael's head.

"... you and me... me and you..." Brian flipped his head from one shoulder to the other as he spoke.

"Did I at least get 'lucky' in your dream?" Michael raised a curious dark eyebrow, thinking that he was awful lucky pretty much every day... to have Brian here with him.

"We're always lucky."

"Yeah... we are, aren't we?"

Brian bent his head, still feeling guilty for souring the moment for Michael. "... sorry..."

"Don't be." Michael patted Brian's upper chest, coming up to cup his chin to get him to look at him in the eyes. Now he felt guilt for making Brian feel so bad about speaking his truth, his mind. He wanted them to be honest with one another and he was failing Brian if he didn't say something to that effect. "You're right. It's not enough for me to say we were never about sex, then turn around and attack you like a fat man on Birthday cake."

Brian drew back, tugging Michael with him, walking backward toward the bed. "That's all you had to say."

"Huh?" Michael squeezed one of Brian's hands, asking him to stop.

"What you just said."

"You asshole!!" Michael dropped one of their bonded hands, but kept the other together. "There were 'magic words'... and you didn't tell me?!"

"I had to know." Brian prepared his body for being swatted or smacked at, an arm above his head and chest to ward of the airborne hand. Nothing happened.

"Know what?" Michael simply shoved Brian, five finger tips pressing in the middle of his torso. "That yet again you could push me to the edge and wait for me to jump off, fall flat on my ass?!" He purposefully stepped on the tangled bed sheet about Brian's waist, making sure it tripped him swiftly off his feet to land safely on the mattress. Michael released Brian's hand, making sure he was still within reach if things should go awry. He watched Brian bounce and then laugh, catching his body to stillness with his elbows. The bed linen had fallen enough to expose Brian's nakedness... and his prominent physical condition of the moment.

"That sex with me isn't everything." Brian posed on the bed, his hazel eyes near to golden browns and deep greens, wide with excitement of another kind. Seemed ironic to say those words, looking like he did.

"How do you know?" Michael stood there, hands on his hips, kicking the sheet away so Brian couldn't tease or taunt him that he was somehow modest in the bedroom.

Brian realized "posing" wasn't going to turn Michael on any more than just plain sitting there and looking at him while being bare-ass naked. So he sat upright, brought up his arms and started counting on his fingers through his list. "For one, you defended me... when I talked bad about myself. For two... you were about to leave and you didn't. For three, you came back to me... twice. Once I left you at home... and just now." He stretched out again, forearms keeping him level, his hands splayed over his pelvic bone and hips... like an arrow on a visitor's mall map saying **"You Are Here"**. "You would have been satisfied with a night like all these others." Brian needed the reassurance and this is what made him more confident that what they were doing was right. Now or never.

"Jerk." Michael mumbled out as he climbed onto the bed, using Brian as his anchor.

"Did I scare you?" Brian landed on his back, hands coming out to grab Michael's sides.

"Yes!" Michael hated how easy he was when Brian was around. This seemed a lot less scarier before. He remembered those days when he wished Brian was like every other guy he was attracted to. That they'd grow close, fall in love, have a great relationship and then some type of commitment would pop up. He was all ready for it, the whole adventure... but somehow, even through the years, he discovered he didn't want Brian to be just like those other men. He liked things the way they were... complicated and perplexing. He could never say Brian would bore him to tears.

"Good. Now we know how important this is..." Brian positioned Michael close enough to him that it didn't take much to roll them over onto Michael's back. "... to both of us..."

"Do you really feel that way?" Michael reached up to tuck the loose, dangling strands behind Brian's ears. "Like all you've been good for is sex?" He came up, swiping the back of his fingers under Brian's chin.

"Sometimes." Brian sighed heavily, sinking down onto Michael. "Never with you, though." He was still somewhat tired from sleeping and being woken up quickly, so he basically crumbled into Michael's enveloping arms.

"... I love you..." Michael whispered these words into Brian's ear, soothing over his bare skin. "... and I didn't say it to force you to repeat them back." He felt he needed to explain himself, the need to say the words. whenever. "The words are always in me to say, to blurt out and I always held them in... to not frighten you away."

"Not anymore." Brian muttered the words into Michael's neck.

"No. Never again." Michael softly chuckled, feeling Brian's muscles unravel, going less tense. He let his hand trail up, fingers brushing through Brian's hair.

"Come back to bed." Brian played like he was drained of all energy and lopped his brow on Michael's face, kissing the side burn near his right ear.

Michael thought it a weird question since they were already there, but he knew what Brian was asking. "Am I being invited?"

"Don't you think it's about time?"

"... no..."

"Why do you say that?"

"... because of everything we've been through to get here, I think the timing was perfect..."

"Mmm... you do, do you...?"

"Yeah..."

"... even if I start doing... this!!"

Brian had been playing possum for so long, Michael wasn't expecting to be tickled so mercilessly. He tried to roll away, from under Brian's sadistic clutches, but he could only twist his legs to the right, because Brian had trapped the rest of Michael's body under him. Unfortunately, that's where Michael was most ticklish...

~*~ **FLASHBACK END** ~*~

 **~*~TBC...**


	10. Chapter 10

~*~ **PRESENT** ~*~  
 _ **Hospital Room 1043... The Awakening...**_

Michael had completed his tale over a half hour ago. Somehow he had known when the appropriate time was to stop talking and drift away in slumber, curled up in the sleeper chair, under blankets and Brian's dark leather jacket. He lay on his right side, facing Brian, a hand always managing to rest on the bed. Sometimes he'd fall asleep clutching Brian's hand, other times he'd rest nearby, finding that even in dreamland he still needed Brian's touch, a slight caress of warm skin.

Brian had no idea what time, what day or what month it was when he opened his eyes. It was about the only thing he could do without having to concentrate hard, forcing Body to listen to Brain. He could only look in the direction he faced, every item in the room was shadowed, hidden. About the one thing he could trust his eyes to see and his mind to comprehend was Michael's sleeping form and features, the tangled mass of dark hair popping up from the blankets.

... the hand... the gloriously pale, delicate hand laying close... so close that Brian knew he could reach the few inches of distance. First he had to get his fingers moving, find if they had sensation, then he could think about walking them over to Michael's hand. He shut his lids and thought, _**"... move hand... move hand to hand... movemovemove..."**_ His pinky began to twitch, like crazy. He thought, _**"... calm... calm... calm... doing fine... Michael's here..."**_ His hand stopped twitching, the pinky motionless.

Brian may not have been fully aware of how long he'd been here, in the hospital, but that little move practically wiped him of all energy. It was embarrassing, a little. He'd been a strong, healthy man... what was he turning into and why...?

Michael would wake up periodically, checking on Brian and as he blinked, glanced over to the head of Brian's bed, he was about to put his head down and fall back asleep when he realized Brian was awake, looking directly at him... hazel eyes clouded with bewilderment. "Holy... shit...!" He shot up in the chair, causing the leg lift to automatically reset into the structure. He threw the blankets off, his body reacting on instinct. He went for Brian, not caring to notify the nurses. He wasn't sure if he was dreaming or if this was a fluke... his active imagination at work. He stood over the stretcher, hands reaching out to cup both sides of Brian's face. "Is this...?" He licked his lips, feeling the moisture gathering in his eyes of disbelief and shock settling in. "Are you really...?"

Brian let out a groan, under his vocal chords, deep and mournful. Of wanting to say something, but finding out he couldn't speak what he wanted to convey. Mind able, body uncooperative. He shut his eyes in mild pain, more for his ego bruised. Of being so weak he couldn't do something as simple as talk.

Michael swallowed down the lumps in his throat. "Hey... hey... ssshhh... don't... don't... jesus..." He didn't care about protocol, of how it might look if he climbed into bed with Brian. He knew what Brian needed and it had nothing to with medicines flowing through the IV or the many hours, days or weeks it would take to heal. He removed the pillow from under Brian's right hip, throwing it behind Brian to be assured he'd have room to lay along Brian's body, cradling him in his arms. He buried Brian's face in his neck, rocking them back and forth, hands soothing along the back of the hospital gown. He hadn't held Brian this close in a long time, felt like forever, but it had only been a week or so. He placed one arm, his right, behind Brian's head, letting him fall onto his back on the mattress. "... look at you..." He caressed and petted the beard, the supple near sunken cheeks, brushing back the long bangs. "... so beautiful..." He bent to kiss his lips along Brian's face, keeping his own cheek plastered to the warm skin. This... this felt like normal, even if Brian wasn't able to respond like he used to. He pushed away to stare down into Brian's blank features.

Brian couldn't look into Michael's face, or open his eyes again. He could do it, like he did, but he wasn't about to look at Michael's own sadness at the state he was in. Was it all Brian's fault, like usual? Was he to blame for putting his own life at risk? Almost ending it... leaving Michael bereft and alone? He felt the hands over him, sliding down his limp left arm, coming to the wrist and wrapping around the bones and muscle to place the palm on a warm, wet cheek. He felt the kiss inside the skin, the way Michael nuzzled him, wanting to say he would still want him. He'd be here... for the long haul, whatever Brian needed or wanted, he wasn't leaving. _**"... move hand... move, touch him... it's Michael... movetouch, movetouch..."**_ Brian's eyes shot open, wondering if concentrating his gaze on the hand in question would force his mind to "see" what he actually wanted to happen.

Brian exhaled a puff of breath. "... n-ugh!..." He looked at what little movement he did accomplish, the slight shaking of his arm, the trembling, near tremors, of his weak muscles and even weaker nerves. "... Mi..." He tried the whole name, but found his lungs constricted, the strenuous effort too much right now.

Michael closed his eyes, tears falling faster. "... don't force yourself... you were out, for a long time..."

Brian blinked, catching Michael's words. His frown lines were prominent. _HOW LONG?_ His eyes wildly searched Michael's face for answers.

Michael reached up to press his hand over Brian's, keeping him near. "Not long..."

Brian wanted to do something else with his hand, but instead it slid over Michael's face, fingers catching on his eyes and closing them, swiping downward to his chin and then falling onto his own chest. "... n-uh..." His head shook once from side to side, as if disagreeing with Michael, knowing it was a lie said to comfort him.

"Okay... yes... I'm lying, but..." Michael still moved down to cover Brian's hand on his chest, latching onto the shape. "... it doesn't matter. What matters is that you're awake... and..." He caught Brian's shift of his head to stare up at the ceiling, releasing a heavy sigh. "... two weeks... almost two weeks..." Michael kept his head bowed in shame, realizing that he wouldn't lie to Brian, about anything anymore. Only the truth, even if it hurt.

Brian shut his lids, making a sound like he was clearing his throat, then he concentrated again. _**"... move... hold him... move... hold Michael... he needs this... you know it... moveholdhim, moveholdhim..."**_ It started off on a shake, then a series of trembling, but the right arm under Michael moved up to embrace him, about the back, fingers shaking and clutching at his shirt.

Michael bent his head, leaning his brow on Brian's forehead, he knew what Brian was trying to do, for his benefit. "I have to call them in. This is important... kind of major..." He didn't want to move at all. Brian wouldn't let him go. The hand he'd been covering on his chest traded places, Brian's hand squeezing him. "... but I can wait..." He smiled, pressing a gentle kiss right on cheek and jawline, feeling the soft bristles of facial hair on his lips. "I'm good where I am, if you are." He simply lay his head next to Brian's on the pillow, face turned into Brian's hair and ear. He saw Brian nod his head once, in agreement. "... love you..." He brought up their hands, using his index finger to trace Brian's features. "... I promise you... everything's gonna be alright..."

Brian's reply was to simply hold him tighter, as tight as his exhausted body would let him. For Michael... he would believe, even if he knew this was worse than anything they'd been through separate and apart.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
 _ **Hospital Room 1043... The Revelation...**_

"So... I hear a celebration is in order."

"I'm not leaving, Em." Michael rolled his eyes, taking the folded clothes Emmett was handing him from the packed bag. He walked over to the small dresser in the room, opening up the first drawer and filling the emptiness.

Emmett pursed his lips, reaching in for all the least pricey and fabulous underwear Brian had that could be seen in public. "But he... is not here." He took out the bag of toiletries; shaving kit and comb, brush; toothbrush and toothpaste; deodorant and body sprays, because colognes just wasn't screaming "hospital". "In fact..." Emmett stretched out the words to suggest Michael knew exactly what he'd say to him next. "... he won't be back for the next two hours, so the nurses say." He raised an eyebrow in question.

"What else would I be doing? I've closed my store and hired the construction workers to start the remodeling. Jenny won't be in town until the weekend. I've got no where else to be." Michael put out his arms and shrugged. "While I respect and appreciate your need to see me move on and do something... instead of spend all my time here, with Brian... I need you to understand one thing..." He moved toward the bed, picking up the department store bag that held the new pajama bottoms Michael had Emmett buy for Brian. He had to take them out of their plastic wrapping before he placed them in the drawer, neatly, being anal about color coordination. Brian had a certain OCD about his clothes, Michael wanted to maintain as much equilibrium as he could and not disturb the order of things.

"What's that?" Emmett quirked up one lone eyebrow, folding his arms as he sat on the bed.

"Nothing you do or say will change my mind." Michael ripped into the first packet, unfolding the pajama pants from around the stiff cardboard piece. He shook out the fabric, holding the pants in mid-air to look them over. He knew who to send out on a shopping excursion. Emmett had good taste for other people, his own clothing style was better suited for him and maybe rodeo clowns. "I'm not..." He paused in the middle of his comment, distracted by noises he heard going on outside the room door.

From the glass wall of windows, Michael and Emmett could see the nurses' station. A little boy, of about three, or four, years old and a young girl, barely eight or nine years old, were standing near the counter, both with a hand in a man's hand. The man was dressed in military fatigues, different shades of brown hues, mixed with some greens. He was standing tall and proud, calm but attempting to quiet his sobbing son. He soon had to let go of his daughter's hand and pick up his son to comfort him. His daughter was rubbing her own eyes, eventually to follow with her own tears.

"Gooooooood Mornin' GI Joe!" Emmett saluted off in the distance, admiring the backside of the fine and muscular specimen of man before them. He practically adored (salivated) over a man in uniform. Normally it would be something like a cowboy outfit or a leather clad rockstar, but sometimes... the real life uniforms turned him on, too. Mailman, UPS driver, Police Officer, Bike Messenger... etcetera.ecetera.

"Em... ssshhh..."

"Why?" Emmett whispered, wondering why they had to be quiet. He was even more interested in knowing why Michael was walking away from him, toward the open door. "What's wrong, Michael?"

Michael put up a hand to shush Emmett. "Give me a minute. You can chew me a new asshole later, when Brian gets back." He added the last bit, because he had been about to tell Emmett he was never leaving Brian's side, no matter what tactic was used to pry him away.

He reached the doorjamb in time to hear these words uttered from the young RN on duty. _**"... I'm sorry, sir, but those were our instructions. Strict, though they are... Mr. Kinney's family wants no visitors at this time..."**_ She sounded liked this was her third or fourth time repeating the words. They still wouldn't change, even when the children started to shed tears.

The little girl tugged on her father's pant leg. "Daddy, ask 'er if we can peek at 'im, through the win'ow. Like we do the puppies at the store."

Michael smirked, thinking of how cute that sounded. He wondered who they belonged to and why were they asking for Brian.

The man was rocking his son in his arms, quieting him down to a dull wail. "Eh... how 'bout that, huh? I'll tell them not to tap on the glass too."

Michael snickered, putting a hand over his mouth before anyone heard him make a noise. He began to look the man over, stunned by the gentle way the giant of a man moved swiftly, like a dancer. He looked like a professional wrestler, like the military hero out of countless Hollywood action movies. But the way he held his son, the way the kids surrounded him as if he was the best Daddy ever... well, it caused Michael to think hard about the strict rules he'd given the staff. He might reconsider, if he knew who the man and the kids were to Brian. He thought he knew everyone Brian knew or had met in his lifetime.

The nurse chuckled, looking flushed in her face, the way a young woman does when she's in front of an attractive man attempting to not show how much she's digging his "vibe". "I'm sorry. We have..."

The man sat his son on the counter top, handing him the maroon beret he'd taken off earlier for his son to hold onto, keeping him occupied. He dug out his wallet, willing to do anything now to get to see Brian Kinney. Show a valid Driver's license, his military ID... bribe her with some cash. Whatever it took. "Look..." He was so close now, he could taste it. He'd been searching for too long already to be given the old heave-ho. "... I understand you have rules and regulations to follow, but does anything forbid me to leave a note, a business card with my name and phone number.?"

The young nurse shook her head. Her arms were crossed over her ample chest, one arm bent, fingers playing at the rim of her scrub collar. "I can take the information, hand everything to Mr. Kinney's family. But I will have to ask you to leave. We only allow..."

Michael had enough, realizing how much stress he'd put on the staff to uphold his stupid "ban" on visitors. "I'm right here." He spoke loud enough for everyone to hear. He wandered closer, standing in the middle of the wide hallway.

The young nurse moved slightly to the left and peered over the counter, nervously tucking a strand of wayward hair behind her ear. "Oh! Mr. Novotny... I didn't see you there. I thought you'd gone along to X-ray with Mr. Kinney."

At that statement, the strange man and his two kids stared at Michael in fascination. The man only stared hard once, drinking in a full sight of Michael, then averted his eyes, a tad perturbed at the moment.

Michael was stunned by their collective reaction to him, like he was an assistant to a real celebrity. "Nah..." He ventured over, one arm crossed over his chest and rubbing down his bicep. "... I came back. Found out I was in the way of the medical professionals." He shared a smile, hoping everyone would get his humor. Everyone simply stared at him, which was nerve-wracking. "I, uhm... couldn't help overhearing." Michael walked around to directly come face-to-face with the man. "Is there something I can do to help you?" He squinted at the name badge on the military shirt. It said Frye, but Michael couldn't tell by anything the man wore on his uniform what rank he was.

"Yeah..." The man finally turned his head to look Michael in the eyes. He was on his last leg of patience. He wasn't a man who believed in wimping out and begging, but he truly considered getting down on his knees, in front of his kids and God. And he wasn't even a Mama's boy. "... you can lift the damn friggin' lockdown on visitors. Do you know how hard it's been for me to locate Brian Kinney? How many obstacles I've had to hurdle over to get here. And you..." He swiped a hand over his face, breathing deeply. "I've entered third world countries with looser security measures." He was impressed, but he never thought it would be this difficult to find one human being. Or lose patience over strict protocol. Now he knew what most people had felt when he was actually an integral part of the Special Forces Unit.

"Daddy!" The young girl came from around her father's leg, looking up at him with a fire to her eyes. "... don' yell at 'im!" Her little fists pounded on her hips, just like she'd always seen her parents to do to her or her baby brother. "He didn' do nuthin'!!"

"Baby..." The man rubbed a wayward hand over the back of his daughter pigtails. "... baby, I'm just a little anxious, is all." He scraped a finger over her nose, skimmed her flushed cheek. "I'm not really angry."

The little girl wasn't having that, she tapped her foot in annoyance "... say you're 'sorry'..."

The man couldn't help chuckling, looked too much like his ex-wife. "... Angie..." He looked up to Michael for some assistance, a sorrowful look to possibly getting his ass kicked by his own child.

Michael smiled, feeling sympathetic and wondering if Jenny would be exactly like this when she reached this age. The thought of a mini-Melanie coming after him made him inwardly cringe.

"Daddy, you make me 'pologize when I don' wanna."

Michael couldn't help but agree, it really wasn't fair. Sounded like something his own mother would have said to him. _**"Do as I say, not as I do?"**_ _Well, then stop fuckin' things up around me, Ma! --_ was always something he said secretly, to himself. "No... Angela, is it?" At her slow nod as she stepped back behind her father's pant leg, she stared wide-eyed and curious into Michael's face. He got down on one knee, to her level, knowing exactly how to handle kids. He always thought he'd never really grown up, just faked it all. He was still that little geeky, ugly duckling, getting bullied around the hallways. "Can I call you 'Angie'?" She emphatically nodded her head, almost rolling it off her neck. "Angie... your father's right. See... Mr. Kinney..." He put a hand to his chest. "I call him 'Brian'... he's very, very important to me, like you are to your Dad and Mom..."

"... an' my baby brother too..." Angie had to add that, in case anyone thought she was jealous of him, hogging all the attention.

Michael leaned his left elbow and forearm on his left leg, clamping his palms together. "... of course... What's his name?"

"Reynaldo Juan Guevara Frye... Daddy an' Mommy call 'im Rey... Rey-Rey... gran'pa and gran'ma call 'im Little Rey... I call 'im RJ... it's easier..." Angie sputtered out as if she'd memorized it, if anyone should ask. She even knew her phone numbers and the addresses she lived at and most of her relatives names, though they all pretty much were the same. A family tradition to share first names. "... he's this many..." She put up four fingers, biting her bottom lip. "... this..." She put up the four fingers, then took them down. "... plus this..." She held up five fingers. "... is how old I am." She put her arms behind her back, feeling more comfortable with Michael. "How many are you?"

"Angie..." The man thought this quite tedious; he was still wanting to see Brian in the flesh. Time was slipping away from them.

Michael glanced up at the man, turning his blank face into a wide smile. "No... it's okay. You all can stay." There was a big heavy sigh of relief from the man and his daughter; the son was still fascinated by the felt beret, his tears dried by now. "You'll get to see Brian, soon." Michael thought about his age, then responded. "I'm almost 30yrs older than you."

"Whoa... Is that ol'?" Angie looked from between Michael and her father. Her father shook his head, so not to be rude, but Michael chuckled softly.

"Old enough to do anything I want, but young enough to know when I've been bad."

"You've been bad?" Angie was shocked an adult actually admitted wrongdoing.

"Yes... it's not very nice of me to let people who really want to see Brian, not see him. I just... I guess I was trying to protect him."

"Like Daddy does for our country?" Angie spoke so eloquently as if she truly did understand what the military's role was in the scope of the world. She reached up to grab onto her father's dangling hand.

Michael snickered, nodding, but not really putting much effort into it. "Sort of, but not quite." He got up off the floor. "Many people, just like you and your brother and father... have been trying to convince me that I need to loosen my strings." He already knew Emmett had walked up behind him, standing off to the side. He didn't have to look over his shoulder to know Emmett was there. This time, Michael raised his head to finally speak directly to the man. "You can see him, but right now he's off getting some tests done." He glanced at the wall clock and his own wrist watch. "He won't be back for another hour and thirty-six minutes."

"Jesus..." The man hung his head, in shame. "... I feel like such an idiot. I'm... I'm really sorry I barged in here, causing a commotion. And yelling at you wasn't what I wanted to do, honestly." He licked his lips, the nerves in high gear. He stepped backward, not realizing how close he was to the nurses' station counter. He almost squished his son, who instinctively wrapped an arm up and around his father's neck. Rey was trying to place the beret back where it belonged, so he could climb piggy back.

"Please..." Michael waved the apologies away. "... I needed to hear someone complain how frustrating I've been. I wanted to make sure Brian was better than he had been, more 'awake and aware' for visitors."

"Has he...?" The man pulled off the crooked beret, keeping it in his left hand, Angie's hand still in his right hand's grasp.

"Yes..." Michael released a grateful breath with his laugh. "... finally, a few days ago. He, uh... there's some other things he needs to improve on, but I'm told we're better than we ever could be. Brian's determined to bounce back."

"I didn't know he was that bad." The man swallowed a deep intake of breath, looking away for a minute, then coming back. "I assumed, with the newspapers and media stories, that things were just fine. No one mentioned he'd been critical."

"I wanted it that way. Brian's a very private person. This wasn't a time to bring the crowds in for an audience."

"Yeah... yeah, of course. As it should've been." The man brought up his hand to scratch at his brow. "I guess... when these types of unknown circumstances crop up, you take anything good just to get by." He let one side of his mouth smile, which crinkled his left eye. The scar along his upper eyelid and upper cheekbone became more prominent.

"Pretty much." Michael hadn't expected to see the wound, but being that the man was military, having been shipped off on his tours of duty... he would've seen battle many times. Michael was genuinely sympathetic and more interested than ever to learn who this man was and how he knew Brian. It wasn't like Justin. There wasn't an attraction, there was a deep rooted "need", as if Brian Kinney was a relative or held some great profound meaning for him. Michael was a bit envious, thinking he could try living vicariously through another man's feelings for Brian, even though he knew them once, as his very own. Never did a single day pass that he didn't feel awed by Brian's presence in his life. "I'm Michael, by the way..." He held out his hand. "... Michael Novotny."

The man seemed almost overpowered by his own emotions, close to weeping with relief. He was here, Brian wasn't far. Learning about Brian Kinney helped him remember important names, Michael's name was one of them. He was blown away by finally getting to meet the man in the flesh. "Desmond... Master Sergeant Desmond Frye, Army, Special Forces." He took that offered hand and held on, as tight as he could, but pulled back to not look too creepy. His palms were growing sweaty. Michael seemed like an upstanding man, one he'd like to get to know better.

"If you don't mind me asking..." Michael crossed his arms at his back, hooking thumbs on the back pockets of his jeans. "... how did you and Brian meet?"

Angie was jumping up and down, a little too excitedly. "He saved Daddy's life!!!"

Michael's eyes went wide, with shock.

"Supah-man!!" Rey put his arms up, on either side of his father's head, straight up in the air.

Michael quirked up a curious eyebrow toward Desmond. Did that now make him, officially, Lois Lane?

"I can explain." Desmond blinked quickly, wondering how he could get out of this mess without seeming freakishly idol worshiping.

"You've piqued my interest more than once, Mst. Sgt Frye."

"Desmond... or, as my friends call me 'Desi'... rhymes with 'messy'..." Desmond went on as if this was the standard way he always introduced himself to people he enjoyed the company of.

"... but Daddy's not..." Angie proclaimed with a wide toothless grin, as if she'd heard the phrase a bajillion times and knew the punch line. She was shaking her head. Rey joined in the head shaking as if he, too, knew the reactions and the words to the punch line.

Emmett had enough. Michael might have been intrigued for a whole other reason, but Emmett couldn't stop his eyes from misting or his heart from fluttering.

Desmond Frye was a good looking man. Probably straight as an arrow, because that's usually when Emmett fell the hardest for men out of his reach. But there was something overwhelming about Desmond... and it wasn't the whole America's Hero "vibe" he had going for him. There was a sincere feeling of when Desmond Frye actually talked to you, it was because you were worth the time. Not only would you gain something from him, but you would probably make a difference in his life, as well. A man who had once closed himself off from the world, but willing to sacrifice his own life for that same world he probably had never wanted to be a part... because that's all he thought he was worth. Brawn over brains and beauty. Problem was... that brawn and muscle deterred many from finding out what truly made Desmond Frye, "Desi" to his friends, tick and his children absolutely adore him. Like another version of Brian Kinney, but possibly even more sad and tragic.

Emmett drew up behind Michael, wrapping his arm about Michael's neck and shoulder. "We'd love to hear the sordid tale, Not Messy Desi."

Angie chuckled behind her hand, after she got over the shock of seeing the pretty man standing beside Michael. He was tall, almost taller than her father, and he... was beautiful. She didn't think there was anyone more pretty than her mother. She even liked the space between his front teeth.

"Shall we..." Emmett never cared what company he kept or what folks thought of him, keeping his "flame" lit every chance he got. Why hide it when it was so fabulous to begin with? "... visit the cafeteria?"

Desmond had seen the man who had followed behind Michael, disturbed by the way he stood, the tell-tale walk, the swing of hips and the flailing of his arms as if they were made of Jello, but sticky when they went around someone else. He clung to Michael, hugging him close, like a brother, leaning their heads together as if the "love" would be there no matter what.

"ICE CREAM!!" Rey spoke out, quite loudly, causing all the adults to want to cover their ears or not even acknowledge him.

Emmett let go of Michael to hold open his hands, like Rey. "Frozen Yogurt!" Tah-Dah!

"... yuck..." Angie made a face, sticking out her tongue, some idea that it was a different frozen yogurt, like she usually got in her lunch pail, with fruit hidden at the bottom of the cup.

Emmett lowered his arms, wide spread to Angie. "My treat!"

"YUM!!" Angie clapped her hands and jumped up and down in frenzied energy.

Emmett wandered closer to the counter to heft Rey in his arms, Angie was on his heels.

Michael had no idea Emmett could act so natural around children and look as if he fit in. But what he hadn't expected was Desmond's reaction to Emmett. Michael had an idea that with the children and the mention of a "mommy" the man was straight, probably married the same many years as Angie had been living. He saw the deep mossy green eyes follow Emmett on the way out the door... the way a puppy yearns for companionship of an owner, of wanting to be touched, petted and loved. He walked closer, tender hand cupping Desmond's beefy shoulder, then rubbing his hard biceps. "Hey... we're all really harmless. Emmett's the least dangerous of us all."

Desmond nodded his head, bowing chin to chest, deep breathing. He tucked his beret under his left arm. "I feel like I've waited forever for this." He released a self deprecating snicker, unable to explain what was actually overtaking him.

Michael was a little stunned by the softness to Desmond's voice, the way the lashes fluttered in shyness. "You're here. I won't let you go without seeing him. I promise you. Okay?"

"Yeah... okay..." Desmond nodded his head in understanding, willing to believe and trust in this complete stranger.

"C'mon... Emmett almost never offers to pay for anything. We need to catch up or lose out." Michael waved Desmond to follow him, not able to knock this feeling he almost wanted to give Desmond a hug of reassurance. That was for later, when he knew a bit more about how Brian actually saved this man's life. He couldn't help but know exactly what Desmond was feeling, the emotions reeling through him, some he'd probably thought never existed. "You and I can talk privately. I want to know more and get to know you."

They began to walk, side by side.

"Thank you. I know how weird this must seem to you. I swear I mean Brian no harm."

"I know."

"How?" Desmond held open the swinging door for Michael to pass through.

"Brian never saves anyone unless they're worth it." Michael shared a sly smile with Desmond as he walked on by.

"You, too?" Desmond raised a curious eyebrow.

"Yeah..."

"So you know...?"

"Yeah... I do know what you're feeling, what you're going through."

"Good. I thought I was the weird one."

"Join the club. We've got handmade t-shirts and arm patches."

Desmond cracked up laughing, his eyes crackling with an intense shade of green, showing how happy he was at the moment.

Emmett had held the elevator for them, using his backside to hold the door, while Rey played with his spiked locks. "After you, Master Frye."

Desmond opened his mouth to correct Emmett's name title for him.

Michael put up a hand to Desmond's chest, tapping lightly. "Play along. It's for the best."

They walked in single file, positioning themselves in the cramped box.

"Okay." Desmond leaned back against the elevator wall, arms V-ed and dangling down his front, hands clamped at zipper level.

Emmett winked at Michael, Michael mouthing the words, _**"Don't do it... Please don't do it..."**_

Emmett made a face like he couldn't help himself. "You have nice genes, Master Frye." He held up Rey and patted the top of Angie's head. Genes ... or jeans...?? Emmett noticed Angie looking at her father's army fatigue pants, not seeing "jeans". Adults were weird.

Michael closed his eyes in painful misery. Emmett just hit on Desmond, Desmond blushed and ducked his head.

"Thank you." What else could he say?

 **~*~THE END**


End file.
